


Random one-shots and pilots

by NotAnotherUsername



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Noir, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Gen, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 23:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10818711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAnotherUsername/pseuds/NotAnotherUsername
Summary: A collection of assorted one-shots and prompts, usually more first chapters to stories that will probably never be expanded upon than anything else, several of which being AUs.





	1. /ztg/ Thematic Thursday 21 -- High Seas -- Chains of a Different Kind

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really write, but I'm sure that's obvious enough just reading this shit. I thought I'd put my money where my mouth is this time and actually participate in the prompts instead of just telling other people to do it. This is what I had in mind. Hope you liked it.

In a gentle glide, a cluttered, black mass crept across a still sea. The glitter of celestial bodies above did little to illuminate the square structures of ropes and masts that stood high above the hull, only giving it form in a rich silhouette that settled against a storm of stars. In the dead of night, the only movement that could be seen were small figures shifting between the ghostly speckles of light, crawling over the narrow yards that held the sails and rigging aloft. There was no noise but the quiet parting of the sea and the careful patter of paws across the deck, all prowling this way and that without a single utterance.

Off in the distance, lanterns cast an orange glow onto the fastened sails and deserted deck of another vessel, much smaller than the one cutting through the sea in its direction. It was still in the water, unmammaled by the crew who had undoubtedly called it a night to seek rest, with even the crow’s nest sitting unoccupied. Her stalker had remained off in the distance and watched it for some time, seeing no organized patrol of lookouts. Their apparent arrogance and hubris had made them an unwittingly easy target for incursion, one that a particular mammal sought to exploit. 

Captain Nicholas Wilde stood before the steps leading down onto the main deck, looking across the length of his vessel towards their newest target. He wore a black longcoat that was held down onto his shoulders by a fraying sword sash, grips and barrels of half a dozen flintlock pistols sticking out of his belted midriff at odd angles. A large tuft of russet fur rustled in the breeze outside of his loose cotton tunic, accentuating his carefree attire. One of the fox’s jeweled paws came up to adjust the tri-cornered hat atop his head before dropping back down to rest on the hilt of his sword.

The vulpine’s sensitive eyes cut through the darkness with ease, and he watching in muted contrast as his crew scurried across the deck and riggings to fulfill their orders. His Galleon, which had been affectionately christened the Nighthowler, was rabidly stalking towards their unassuming prey, sailing with only the fore and main topsails as well as the driver to remain quiet on their approach.

“Captain.” The barely feminine voice came from the fox’s flank, just loud enough for Nick to hear her. His ears perked up at the sound, making him turn to observe the mammal behind the helm. The tiger stood at almost two and a half meters high, dwarfing the wheel she was behind, and wore a poofy cotton tunic with brown trousers, her own sword sash hanging off her shoulders. She was staring at him, her eyes completely dilated for the darkness, appearing as two large, black pits. “She’s coming up on nine-hundred meters.”

Nick nodded solemnly. “Steady as she goes, Miss Fangmeyer.” Turning back around, he glanced down the flight of stairs, seeing another set of black orbs staring up at him, these ones belonging to a grey wolf in similar attire. “Paws aloft,” he whispered down to the wolf, “prepare to take in canvas on my command.”

The wolf swiveled around and marched down the deck silently. “You heard the cap’n,” he whispered out, making sure to only be as loud as it took for everyone to hear him in the quiet night. “Paws aloft.”

Nick watched several crew members scamper off in the direction of the ratlines to begin their ascent, and what mammal were already aloft were making their way towards where they would need to be to stow the sails. Nick scrutinized them intently for a moment before turning his attention back on their target. It was a merchant vessel of some kind, but to what end, he did not know. It was a strange happenstance to see such easy prey, so much so that he had them hold back longer than usual to make sure it wasn’t a trap set up by the Zootopian Navy. Even still, something didn’t sit with him about it.

Fangmeyer broke the silence again, hissing out in a warning tone. “seven-hundred meters.”

Nodding without turning to acknowledge her, the fox gestured for the wolf to return. He made haste in trotting across the deck, making the majority of the noise despite the number of mammals all working tirelessly through the darkness. When he closed the distance to the bottom of the steps, Nick spoke to him in an even, low voice. “Ready the sweeps.”

The wolf nodded, and again went off down the deck. Only this time, he cut larboard halfway down the ship and leaned over the precipice of the main hatch, making a light howling noise to capture the attention of the crewmembers below deck. “Ready the sweeps,” he called down, again in a whisper.

There were only predators aboard the Nighthowler, and almost every single one were equipped with natural tools to aid them in darkness. Even in the decks below, there was no light, just the patter of paws and light whispers between shipmates. In such a silent night, Nick was not hard pressed to hear the explosion of muted movement below, spreading out to fulfill their captain’s orders. 

The fox’s eyes scanned the horizon for light one more time, attempting to quell the creeping sense of unease that was setting into his bones. He would not let his superstitions and paranoia control his decisions, but there was no denying the oddities of their excursion. It was too late to change his mind, anyway, and Nick could only hope that his unfounded paranoia was just that, unfounded. 

While Nick’s eyes were still narrowed in the distance, movement just above the water off the starboard hull captured his attention. Long, finned appendages spread out above the sea, reaching out for several meters before hovering. They were oars, stretching down the side of ship in alternating sizes. Nick glanced over the larboard bulwark to see a mirroring of the same, and watched as they all began moving in a synchronized driving motion. The steady rhythm of the oars being dipped into the sea and rowed created a tempo of slashes and trickles far louder than the sails had been.

“Mr. Wolfard,” Nick called in a hushed voice, causing the pointed ears atop the wolf’s head to swivel in his direction. “You may take in sail. I want a slow, steady rhythm on those sweeps. If I can hear them from here, you are going too fast.”

The wolf turned to look in his direction, nodding his head. “Aye, sir,” he replied in an equally hushed voice. Wolfard pacing across the deck, relaying the captain’s orders to any and all mammals that needed to hear them. Nick watched as the crewmembers up in the rigging began hauling up the halyards, raising the sails to be stowed. They worked efficiently and without incident, all moving together like gears in a clock, perfectly synchronized. It took them barely any time at all to begin securing the sail onto the yard, and Nick watched it all in approval.

The ship ahead of them grew ever closer, a point that was made even more obvious when his helmsmammal spoke up again behind him. “Three-hundred meters.”

Nick turned to look at her, seeing her eyes locked forward in a wild concentration, ears flicking every few seconds. “Steady,” he said, holding out an open paw in her direction. Turning back around, he narrowed his vision towards their target, ultimately preparing himself for what could be a blood incursion. He only hoped it wouldn’t turn out that way. “Signals only from here on out, gentlemammals,” he called out, loud enough for everyone to hear him without shouting. “Listen for officer’s orders.”

What little noise was being created by the hushed whispers of the crew died down, and then it was almost completely silent. The only sounds to be heard was the quiet parting of the sea and the steady cadence of the sweeps driving through the dark water. It was moments like these that got the fox’s blood surging through his body, with his ship and loyal crew creeping ever closer to their target in muted excitement, shrouded in the blanket of darkness. It was the calm before the storm, and Nick loved every moment of it. The only thing better was the wake of victory the storm left behind.

“One-hundred meters,” Fangmeyer said, breaking the spell that held the fox in place. 

Turning to look at his helmsmammal, Nick saw her twitch with anticipation for orders. A dull, calm smile spread up the captain’s long muzzle, and he nodded in understanding, waiting for her to return the gesture before twisting back around and making his way down the flight of stairs. His paws were comfortably locked behind his back as he made the leisure trek, taking each step without any real concern for the impending commotion.

When the tod looked up from his path, the wolf was standing at the bottom, waiting patiently for more orders. “Mr. Wolfard,” Nick said. “Hold the drive and slow us down.” Wolfard bowed his head faintly before whipping around and trotted off towards the main hatch again, but he didn’t watch him go. Instead, the fox lifted his head just enough to capture his helmsmammal’s attention, and spoke out in an sedated tone. “Hard to Starboard.”

“Hard to starboard!” another mammal echoed. An array of crew members all spoke out in succession to his orders, relaying the message down the line. It sounded more like a wave crashing onto the shore than anything else, with each whispering voice being quieter than the last.

When Nick finally reached the bottom of the stairs, he stepped up to the railing, leaning on one paw to look down into the sea. The long oars feathered their way over the ocean, spraying saltwater as they flew through the air forwards. They remained over the water only one more time before the fox’s orders reached the rowers, and the oars plunged back into the water again, this time remaining there. The blades dragged on the water, sending a torrent around the polls and slowing the vessel down.

Nick steadied himself with his paws over the railing, and braced for the turn. He heard Fangmeyer spin the wheel first, the sound of the driver sail passing overhead and swinging starboard coming next. Having braced just in time, he was completely unaffected by the lurch that ran through the ship when the rudder turned, pulling the the entire vessel around. As the bow swung starboard, the entire ship leaned with the change in momentum, causing a satisfied grin to creep up the captain’s muzzle.

“Fifty meters!” Fangmeyer hissed over the quarterdeck’s railing.

With barely contained glee, Nick swung one of his paws through the air towards the grey wolf standing by the main mast, holding onto a clutch of ropes tied around the base. “Mr. Wolfard!” the reynard said, waving. “Rack the larboard sweeps, hold starboard!”

The wolf spared the captain little acknowledgement besides his ears twitching in the fox’s direction. Holding onto the clutch of ropes for dear life, Wolfard leaned over the open hatch and looked down into the dark depths of the ship, waving out for attention. He relayed the captain's orders, and almost instantly, the ship swung around even harder. The larboard oars rising up out of the water, leaving the starboard blades to drag on the sea with such force that the wood creaked and poles crackle on the edge of snapping.

Every mammal aboard braced against anything they could get their paws on in the arc, tensing with the turn to keep from being tossed around by the change in inertia. It lasted for several seconds of silent prayer, but soon the ship had straightened out alongside the starboard quarter of their prey, slowly creeping up to be perfectly parallel before the ship lost every bit of momentum it had possessed. They drifted in perfect synchronicity now, only a measly couple meters between their hulls. All of the crewmembers relaxed once they had slowed to a crawl, their ears perked as they exchanged glances.

Nick was the first to release his hold on the railing and begin stalking across the deck. “Silent as the grave, mammals,” he whispered. His crew mirrored his orders in quick gestures, signalling down the ship to remain completely still. At any moment, a mammal aboard the ship adjacent could just glance out a porthole and see a pirate Galleon sitting barely the length of a cockboat beside them, which was why the element of surprise was so important. When Nick passed the wolf still dangling over the precipice of the hatch, he unenthusiastically waved one of his paws. “Rack the starboard sweeps and get all paws on deck. Prepare to board.”

A large, toothy smile split the wolf’s visage, his eyes now glowing a vibrant green with the reflection of the lanterns. He turned and blew a soundless howl up into the night air. “All paws on deck!” he hissed, rousing the crew into action. Wolfard stuck out a rigid finger down into the hold, sneering and baring his teeth. “Get those sweeps secured!”

With an easy swagger, Nick strolled up the larboard side of the main deck, letting his emerald eyes slide over the decks and riggings of the ship beside him, a smug grin keeping a firm hold on his features. The explosion of movement behind him could be scarcely believed if not for the fact that he knew it was happening, as it was almost completely soundless. The only tells being the light patter of paws and the muted jangle of effects on the many pirates scurrying about. 

The captain kept his back to his crew, scanning the other ship for movement with his paws behind his back. “Bows aloft,” he said, turning his head to the side without looking. “If you see any movement, give them to the sea before they raise the alarm.”

“Aye, sir,” came the reply of one of his officers, a black jaguar in similarly colored clothing. He stepped up to Nick’s side while gesturing behind him, signalling for several mammals to take up their posts.

Up above them, in the rigging of the ship, a few smaller predators inched along the yardarms, longbows and quivers attached to their hips. Once they were in place, they nocked their long, iron-tipped arrows and pulled the bows up to the ready, steadying themselves to not miss should an unwitting target wander into their sights. It was then that two polar bears stepped up on either flank of Nick and his officer, brandishing longbows taller than they were and carrying distinct arrows with cast iron balls for tips and ropes attached to the nocks.

Nick examined the two bears for a moment before nodding in approval, turning his attention back ahead towards the deserted deck of their target. “Grizzoli, Snarlov, you may loose at will.”

They both huffed simultaneously, and held their bows out in front. At the bottom of each limb, there were iron latches that they hooked onto small bars attached to the deck, and they both placed a hind paw onto the adjoined pieces of metal, steadying themselves and keeping the bows upright. Gripping them tightly, they nocked the odd arrows and pulled the string as far back as their great strength would allow. When they loosed the arrows, they soared far above the deck and over the other side, the ropes trailing after them as they sailed into the ocean. Halfway through their flight, the bears grabbed the ropes that were feeding out over their target and hauled them taut.

A moment passed as the ropes bounced silently over the deck, anchored in place by the iron ends that had sunk into the dark water. “Mammal those lines,” Nick said. “Haul those grapples across and get them secured!”

A pair of small mammals sprung up from behind, large iron grapple hooks tied to their backs, and climbed up to the imposing bears’ arms. It was a weasel and a raccoon, both dressed in ill-fitted cotton attire and headbands, absent any sword or weapon besides a couple knives they held onto by their teeth. They scurried onto the ropes and began to shimmy across the gap, holding on by all fours as the lines sagged with their weight, another pair of ropes trailing behind them as they went.

Every mammal aboard the Nighthowler was locked in a nervous stance of alertness, poised behind the cannons, rifles and bows to execute a chaotic flash of destruction at the drop of a coin. They exchanged anxious looks and shifted their weight between their hind paws, waiting with bated breath for something to go wrong. Even after the two small predators found their way onboard and started their ascent up the ratlines to secure the hooks, the tension aboard the Galleon did not falter. Some licked their teeth in anticipation, while others made worried glances towards their captain.

The raccoon was securing the hook in place up on the mainsail yard, around the mast, when the weasel passed him the hook he was carrying. They got to work securing the lines in place, testing its tension when they were done. When Nick got a nod from the two small predators, he turned to the pirates beside him. “Delgato, Manchas, you’re up,” he said with a flick of his snout. 

The jaguar bowed his head before leaping up to grab one of the ropes, putting one paw in front of the other as he slowly made his way across. Behind him stepped up a lion, puffy cotton shirt and braided main; he wore a thick, ornate fabric around his midriff, holding a scabbard for a scimitar. He rubbed his padded paws together before pouncing halfway over the gap, grabbing onto the second rope and swiftly following his companion. “Step lively,” Nick whispered after the two. “But take care to not tramp over the deck with disregard. Go on all fours.”

Nick watched as the two small mammals slid down the main mast, brandishing their tiny blades out in front as Manchas and Delgato hung by their paws. It was a sight he was not wholly unfamiliar with. In fact, he would say he had almost perfected the art of the night raid in his time as captain, though very few had gone this simply. More times than not, they had to send an otter with a blade to dispose of or otherwise neutralize lookouts. It was not lost on him how easy this was, but then again, it wasn’t the first time some mammals behind the mast had been so wholesomely inept. It was partly what made being a pirate so easy.

The two large predators made it over the deck of the ship, but the continued on for another meter. Manchas dropped first, twisting in midair to land on all four of his paws equally, muffling his landing as much as possible. Turning around, he grabbed onto Delgato’s waist, helping him down onto the deck without so much as a light thud. When they had found their purchase on the deck, they slunk down onto all fours and skulked down the edge of the ship, coming onto either side of the gangway. Looking on to their captain expectantly, they straightening out to their full height.

Nick turned to the rest of his crew. “Ready the gangplank.”

A few of the mammals standing around their captain shuffled off in to retrieve the long, hardened plank, ridged with pieces of wood nailed across its width. They situated themselves on either side of the gangway, four of them, all predators of comparable sizes to the two across the gap. They swung the long board like a pendulum for two good cycles, preparing for the toss. On the third swing, they hoisted the board up with all their might and heaved it across the gap, the two mammals on either side of the divide catching the board deftly. With careful consideration, the four predators lowered the board down onto the deck, connecting the two ships.

Satisfied with his crew’s work, Nick brushed past the large mammals, stepping up to the edge of the gangplank. Before crossing, he turned around. What met his sight was something that had made many mammals quake in utter fear before the lightless vessel. His whole crew save for a few stood before him, all of their eyes training on their captain. With the light of the lanterns on his back, each predator reflected back at him brilliant, shimmering lights from their eyes: reds, greens, yellows, and more. Even up aloft, small, beady lights shown through the darkness, even when he could not see the mammal they belonged to.

The young captain took a slow, steadying breath. “I want a good, clean capture, gentlemammals,” he whispered, drinking in the sight of the many glowing, emotionless orbs staring at him. “No blood in the water unless you absolutely have to. One at a time across the plank, and skulk with righteous evasion.” Taking a moment to scrutinize the other ship while tightening his belts and buckles, fastening his sword and guns close to his body, Nick let out a dispassionate growl. He did not dawdle, though, instead leaning over to fall squarely on all fours. “Let’s go,” he said, beginning his crawl across the gangplank.

His crew followed him, one after another they bent down to take the stance of their ancestors, prowling across the hardened wood with cushioned steps. They all stalked across the gangplank, pouring onto the deck in complete silence and fanning out in all directions. A detachment of a few predators of medium size made for the closed doorways between the quarterdeck ladders, leading down into the lower decks of the ship. Nick lead the pack, allowing Manchas and Wolfard to scurry ahead. They stepped up onto their hind paws, put their ears to the doors, and listened.

Another moment passed with the group of predators coiled up to pounce, ready for anything to lung out at them. It never came, instead the two mammals pushed the doors open quietly, opening them up for the boarding party to pile down into the decks below, which is exactly what happened. With a practiced ease, the predators dived into the bowels, spreading out through the dark passageways and lantern-lit interior. 

They were close now, the muffled voices of the crew coming through the thick timber walls in varying amounts of celebration. There was a thick scent of rum and spirits aboard, hovering just over the stained floors. Alongside that was the stench of sea-matter wool and other musky flavors of prey, hogs mostly. It made perfect sense to the fox who was peering around corners, signalling for his crew to do this and that, as there was no more arrogant breeds of prey than pigs and sheep. He almost couldn’t contain his excitement for an easy victory, as their confidence was always disproportionate to their ability.

“What do you think we can get for it all?” came a muffled voice behind a partially open door. Nick put up his paw to stop the advancement of the predators on his heels, Squinting into the crack illuminated by a bright orange incandescence, seeing only a lantern than swung with the ship. 

“Who knows?” replied another voice, his far more raspy and curt. Nick glanced behind around, seeing the waiting eyes on him. A quick flick of his paw and a flutter of finger movements had Wolfard and a giant river otter stepping up past him, situating themselves on either flank of the door. A few others followed them, standing up on their hind paws as they tensed to pounce and retrieved their pistols and swords. “My guess would have to depend on what kind of mammal we end up selling to. I’m sure there are certain types that would—”

Nick chopped his paw downwards through the air, and the amassed predators sprung into action, pushing open the door in a flash of movement and piling into the room with swords and barrels pointed out at the two mammals sitting at a table, shock and bewilderment written across their features.

“Who—” The hog that spoke was cut off when the butt of a flintlock came down on his cheek, knocking him clean off his chain and sending him tumbling to the ground. Before he could recover, the cheetah who had done it stepped on his neck, pointing the barrel of his pistol at the pig’s temple and cocking the hammer.

The cheetah growled. “Shut your mouth, porkchop!”

The other hog sat there in complete horror, his beady eyes darting between the many large predators that had invaded his cabin. “What is the meaning of—” 

Wolfard put an end to the pig’s voice by lifting the tip of his blade up to the mammal’s neck, making him choke on his words in fright. “Perhaps you didn’t hear?” the wolf whisper, sidestepping over the other pig’s legs to stand right in front of the hog. He reached out a paw and encircle his throat, digging his claws down into the pig’s coarse hair. “Make any more noise and I will take your throat away from you.”

Nick did not stay for the rest of it, and merely continued on his way down towards the captain’s cabin. On a ship like this, it would not be half the size of Nick’s own cabin but that did not mean it wouldn’t be occupied. There was a good chance that it would be filled with more than just the captain, which meant that there was the possibility for a fight. He hadn’t heard the singing of blades or and powder go off yet, which was a good sign, but all it would take is one discharge for the entire ship to go on alert. That would make capturing the ship’s captain all the more challenging.

A portion of their detachment scurried off to every adjoining passageway, making for the ship’s officer quarters as well as any other cabins occupied by prey crewmammals. Still, the air remained quiet save for a few sounds of struggle that died down as quick as they came, and Nick was glad for it, too, as he was now poised right outside the captain’s cabin door. Muffled voices came through from beyond the timber in a calm discussion. There were only two mammals as far as Nick could distinguish, at least from his nose and the sounds of their voices.

Waving his paw through the air, he hoisted himself up on his hind paws, pulling free one of his pistols and cocking the hammer. He stepped closer towards the door as his crew piled around him, positioning themselves again to storm the room beyond. Nick pulled a second pistol and pointed them both up into the air, his eyes wild with anticipation. 

“That storm's been chasing us since we left that barren rock,” one of the voices, likely the first mate, said. “We should find suitable anchorage in the shallows off of the island here.”

A gruff hum was the only response for a few seconds, followed by a dissatisfied groan. “No time,” it replied. Instantly Nick knew this voice belonged to the captain, his ears twitching towards the door to pinpoint his position beyond the wood. “Our cargo has already been sitting for a good while. I don’t want any more to go bad before we make port.” Nick glanced around his waiting crew, making a last check for anyone who had not buried their conscience for what must be done.

“Perhaps if we instead—”

The voice was cut off when the captain pointed both of his pistols forward, giving the signal to the waiting bear by the latch. He nodded in return and stepped back, coiling up one of his heavy hindpaws and launching it directly at the door’s mechanism. The wood splintered instantly, the force of the bear’s paw staving in the timber and knocking it clean off its perch. It swung wide, revealing to the two surprised mammals beyond the force of a dozen large predators as they stormed the room, guns and blades drawn.

It was a ram and a boar, both dressed in the nicest merchant clothing that money could buy. The captain, a boar in his forties, wore immaculately clean clothes and a powdered wig below his tie-fold hat. The startled expression across his snout lasted for only a brief moment before he lunged towards the table, reaching out for a flintlock that had been left there. A crack split the air, a puff of smoke billowing out into the cabin as the pistol was violent ripped off the tabletop and sent to the floor. The captain recoiled in fright and stumbled backwards.

Nick advanced further into the room, lowering his spent flintlock and raising the other right between the boar’s eyes. “Ah, ah, ah, Captain,” the fox chided, a crooked smile reaching up his long muzzle. “You will find that to be a grievous mistake should you choose to try it.”

The shock quickly turned to rage, and the boar puffed out his chest and took a step forward towards the barrel, only stopping when Nick cocked the hammer back cooly. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “Who are you?”

A breathy chuckle escaped the fox’s muzzle, having found the captain’s self-righteous outrage to be rather amusing from his the point of view across the sights of a flintlock. It seemed prey never changed all that much, still pretending to be in charge even when they had six different pistols and five swords bearing down on them. He almost felt a childlike exuberance to explain to the captain what was going to happen next. “We’re commandeering this ship, gentlemammals,” Nick said, his smug grin and lidded eyes instilling a broiling rage in the boar before him. “I would be much obliged if you could join me on the main deck for negotiations.”

The ram standing off to the side spat on the ground at Nick’s hind paws, sneering at the fox. “Pirates.”

Nick’s playful mood was doused pretty effectively at the display of disrespect, but that did not stop him from acting overtly pleased with himself. “We prefer to think of ourselves as liberators, actually,” he replied, taking a small, victorious bow for show, much to the displeasure of their newest captives. Next, he turned on his heels and waved his spent flintlock towards the open door. “Now if you could be so kind, please come along. We don’t have all night.”

They hesitated for a moment, stewing in their own contempt, but eventually they relented, shuffling on past the fox. Before they had a chance to fully exit the cabin, Nick called after them while he holstered the spent pistol in his tangle of belts and sashes. 

“Ah!” he said, sticking his free paw up into the air. His crew halted immediately, still with firm grips on the two captive’s arms. Nick turned to the braided lion who was escorting the boar. “Delgato, search these animals for weapons.” A crooked, sharp smile crept up the side of the lion’s muzzle, and he turned his predatory gaze towards the mammal half his size. It did not take long for fear to spread over their features, and they both cried out alarm when the predators around them all unsheathed their claws ominously.

Nick watched with his paws behind his back as the two prey animals were mercilessly searched by careless paws. They were pushed this way and that, claws ripping fabric and lopping tufts of hair and wool away. Their hats and wigs were tossed about and ultimately discarded as they pulled knife after pistol away from their bodies. The predators discarded their findings off on the central table, displaying an assortment of weapons that the fox found to be rather surprising.

When they were done, the crew hoisted the disheveled, frightened mammals up by their shoulders and presented them to their captain. Nick lazily ran his eyes over the pile before nonchalantly looking at them. “You two are heavily armed for a merchant vessel,” he commented. “Get raided often?”

When the combative boar found his bearings again, his sneer returned in full force. “Go to hell!”

Nick hummed. “Maybe in a couple decades, but I think I’ll pass for now.” He spent another minute looking over the thoroughly ruined proper attire before shrugging his shoulders contently. “Take these two on deck,” he said, turning to Delgato. “Search the rest of the crew.”

The lion’s enormous smile returned. “Aye, sir.”

The two prey animals yelped when they were forcefully shoved back towards the door. The predators laughed at their distress, hooting and howling all the way down the hall as they pushed them around. Nick only followed them out of the room, but remained with his paws behind his back long after he had lost sight of the pack traversing the narrow hallways. There were moments when the fox didn’t know how to feel about what he was enabling to happen, and now was one of them. Being a pirate often did little for his wounded conscience, but at least with every successive bloodless victory he could tell himself he was making the most of it.

Lost in his thoughts, Nick did not notice the black jaguar walk up to his side. The larger predator had to loudly clear his throat to break the spell, and the fox glanced up with an unreadable expression. “What’s the situation, Manchas?” he asked.

The jaguar bowed his head slightly, gesturing back behind himself with one paw. “The hold’s locked up good,” he replied. “Double, triple chained in some places. So’s a couple aft cabins.”

Nick’s brow slowly rose to its full height, honestly bewildered by the fact. He had encountered merchant vessels in the past who had employed a few less than reputable seamammals, and had subsequently locked up their hold to make sure nothing was stolen or otherwise consumed, but double, triple chained? Either they were hauling a hold full of the Navy’s powder, or they were ferrying something incredibly valuable. “What about the hatchways?”

Manchas narrowed his eyes and glanced over his shoulder further into the bowels of the ship. “Main deck and gun deck are probably both unsecured,” he said, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. “Might go right down into the hold.”

Nick nodded his head lightly. “Good,” he said, starting to stroll down the hallway towards the ladders leading up onto the deck. “Fetch a couple pikes and we’ll have a look before going after those chains.”

“Aye, sir.”

The jaguar brushed past his captain and jogged down the passageway, making haste to return to the Nighthowler and retrieve the pikes. Nick, though, was not paying him any mind, and was lost in a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. Something was wrong. Why would a ship ferrying cargo of a particular value or ownership be so easy to capture? If they did, in fact, carry something worth locking away from its own crew, why would they be so careless as to not have posted lookouts?

The fox’s hackles stood on end as paranoia slowly crept into his thoughts. It wasn’t making any sense to him. Had he found the one ship in the entire ocean trusted enough to safeguard valuable cargo, but so inept that they did not even see a pirate ship coming until after the entire crew was already captured? Nick was not that lucky. To top off everything, there was an ungodly smell about the ship, detectable only in the most faintest whiffs. It smelled like death itself, and for the life of him he could not understand what it was. Something wasn’t right. 

Nick stopped in the doorways and passageways leading into other parts of the vessel, studying every little detail to try and get the faintest clue as to what was going on aboard this ship. There was nothing, even as he slowly made his way up the ladder and back into the night air, that could tell him anything more than what he already knew. It was exceptionally ordinary in every regard, which just made it even more unsettling in the eyes of the fox. He let out a frustrated sigh as he took off his tri-cornered hat, smoothing down his ears with a paw. Before he stepped out into the night, he made sure to recompose himself and adjust his hat.

Taking in a long breath, he straightened out his posture, hooked his paws behind his back and forced an easy, smug grin to capture his features. Nick wasted no more time, taking the last few steps in stride and strolling out onto the deck. His crew was standing around in victorious postures, leaning up against railings and masts with a carefree attitude. Lined up on the starboard side of the deck, the crew of prey were on their knees with their hooves tied behind their backs, clothes shredded and expressions scowling. 

“Who is your captain?” yelled the boar Nick had just seen. He looked even worse than he did a minute prior, and he wore an expression so hateful and condemning that Nick couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow at him. The prey captain began yelling again, his full attention on a female tiger who stood before all of the prisoner's, arms crossed over her chest and an emotionless look on her face. “I demand to speak with him at once!”

Nick ignored his demands just as the tiger did, walking up to his officer. “Miss Fangmeyer,” he said, making the tiger’s ears twitch and head turn in his direction. Her sensitive eyes reflected green disks back at the fox, though they were not as bright since they both stood on the lantern lit deck. Nick gestured out towards the prey on their knees. “Is this all of them?”

Fangmeyer nodded. “Aye, Captain.”

A large, toothy smile spread up the fox’s muzzle. He looked around, glancing at all the members of his crew. “Gentlemammals!” he called, waving his paw through the air. “The ship is ours!”

Every predator around save for a few officers and the captain arched their back before pointing their noses directly to the sky, letting loose a noise that cut through the silent night easily. They howled, as loud and as powerful as they could, casting the sound into the heavens above. All of their voices resonated together to produce a deafening victory cry, one that earned their ship’s namesake. Nick even joined in on the jubilant cry, blowing a light ‘ooh’ into the wind. The triumph was not so appreciated by the bound prey who sat on their knees, whose captain began angrily ranting at them.

“Savages!” he yelled, causing the howl to die down faster than it normally would. Dozens of shimmering orbs of reflected light turned their attention to the defeated captain, all of which none too pleased by his insistent disruption of the howl. “A resemblance of your ancestors you may seem,” he said, biting out the words, “but a hollow facsimile if you’d have me believe that you sail under this mammal.” The boar jerked his head in the direction of the aloof fox, scowling once again.

Nick snorted. “Come now, Captain,” he replied in a soothing voice, strolling down the deck in his direction. “There’s no shame in accepting defeat, especially not at the paws of someone far more clever than yourself, and quite a bit more handsome, to boot.”

The prey captain sneered again, his tusks fully displayed when his snout scrunched up in distaste. He watched as Nick came closer with hardened eyes. “You cannot seriously expect us to accept a fox such as yourself is the captain of that ship.”

Humming gently, the fox stopped just short of the boar, leaning forwards over the mammal with lidded eyes. “I don’t really expect you to believe anything,” he said calmly, pulling a pistol out of his belt and sticking the barrel under the boar’s chin, cocking the hammer. The expression on his face instantly dropped as Nick’s easygoing features were replaced by a sadistic, toothy smile. “Savvy?”

The entire predator crew, as well as a few of the prey, gasped when the merchant captain spat right in the fox’s face. Nick didn’t so much as flinch, only closing his eyes and mouth just in time to only get it on his fur. The fox took a long, steadying breath, his finger twitching on the trigger. Ultimately, nothing came of it, Nick eventually straightening out and wiping the spit off his face. He flung the saliva off his paw and glared at the boar in front of him for a moment, but his easygoing expression returned after a while. Resolving to not let the boar’s sour attitude ruin his, he smiled.

“Very well,” Nick said, nodding his head and holstering the pistol. The fox started strolling down the deck, pacing in front of the lined up prey. “If you do not wish to act civil, then we can just cut right down to business. My name is Nicholas Wilde, and I am the captain of that beautiful vessel right there.” Nick pointed behind the line of mammals, directing their attention to the black Galleon. Many predators still remained aboard, and with the complete absence of light on the ship, all of their eyes reflected cold, uncaring colors back at them. “Her name is the Nighthowler, and I am sure you can appreciate its connotations at this point in time.”

The boar’s head snapped back around and glared at the fox, who didn’t seem to notice or care. “Now, we hold no malice or ill-will towards you or yours,” he said, addressing the entire prey crew now, “but we do find ourselves in need of some cargo. We’ve been sailing a little light as of late, and I was wondering if you could aid us in that acquisition?” The mammals in front of him began exchanging increasingly worried and nervous glances, shifting uncomfortably on their knees. “I assure you all that no harm will come to you as long as you cooperate. Any questions?”

Glancing around the line of mammals, Nick noticed how restless a few of them were getting, their eyes shifting in every direction save for him or his crew. The others remained completely still, their eyes locked on the deck right in front of them with expressions of quiet anger. However, none of them objected, so it was alright by him how they chose to project their defeat. It was only at that moment, though, did he notice the surprisingly large pile of weapons. Not just regular swords and flintlock, either, but axes, spiked flails, and even a few short wooden clubs wrapped in canvas. Not things you would expect merchant to be carrying.

That same feeling of unease was brought back up from its slumber, and the fox once again scrutinized the bound prey. Nick did not dwell on it, though, and instead let a pleased smile spread all the way up his long muzzle. “That’s a fine sound,” he said, turning to look at Fangmeyer as if it was directed at her. “I cannot tell you how much the participation means to me. I’m always one to enjoy a decisive victory without harm.”

Nick made his way back down the line of prey and stopped in front of the captain, bending over with his paws on his knees to look right into the boar’s eyes. “Tell me, Captain,” he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper and on the edge of searing irritation. “What is it you are hauling on this delightful night?” Nick’s tone betrayed his increasing nerves as every little detail about the ship made less and less sense. 

The only response he got from the prey was another attempt to spit in his face. This time Nick was ready for it, and in a flash he moved his head out of the way, dodging it completely. However, the fox did not react in any other way, keeping his lidded, smug smile. “Your attempts to quell my good mood are noted.” Pulling himself back up his full height, he looked down the line of bound prey. “Anyone else want to answer my question?” None of them responded or even so much as looked in his direction.

In that moment, Nick found himself running his tongue over the tips of his teeth, struggling to maintain his unaffected demeanor. It seemed to him that they were purposefully trying his patience, which on top of everything was more than a little irritating. Maybe they just didn’t appreciate the fact that they were captives to a gang of marauding pirates. The fox couldn’t decide which he found more insulting.

The loud steps of a mammal crossing the gangplank captured Nick’s attention, and he turned his head to see Manchas jogging back with several pikes in his paws. “No matter,” the fox said, locking his paws behind his back and moving away from the line of prey. “Here come the pikes.”

Nick gestured for a few larger predators to come over, following Manchas over to the main hatch held in place only by gravity. They stood on either side of the thick wooden slats as Manchas passed out the pikes to the others, all of them taking up positions on the four corners. Nodding at them once they were in place, Nick watched them swing the iron pikes over their heads and come hard down onto the wooden grate. They grunted as they hauled the hatch off its frame, sliding it over the deck and out of the way, revealing to the night sky a portion of the gun deck below.

Wolfard and a few other mammals were struggling with a chain keeping the lower hatch in place, but looked to their captain once the ceiling had opened up. The first thing Nick saw was the fact that the lower hatch was a completely solid face of wood, no slats or openings whatsoever. The next thing he noticed was how much more prominent that ungodly smell was where he was standing, directly over the hatch leading into the hull. Whatever it was, it was coming from the lowest part of the ship, and it made the fox’s brow furrowed in thought as he chewed on his lip, not sure what to make of it.

It seemed like the whole crew was starting to get the same feeling that Nick was, and they all began inching their way to stand around the hatch, looking down into the bowels of the ship. Manchas tossed down his pike, Wolfard catching it expertly and twirling it around so the metal spike faced downward. The wolf brought it down right onto the chain between the two metal loops securing the hatch in place and used all his strength to pry it open. Finally, the wood splintered with a sharp crack and the chain was snapped in two, only for Wolfard to bring the pike back down between the hatch’s frame and the board, prying it open.

Every single mammal around the opening in the deck recoiled at the smell, Nick grimacing harshly but stealing himself to not retreat. Nobody reacted at first when Wolfard sprung the board free of its frame, and nobody moved when the wolf enlisted the help of the other mammals to lift it off the timber and discard it. The entire pirate crew was still, gazing down into the putrid smelling hull with bated breath. 

It was dark down there, no light at all except for what little glow of the lanterns reached that far. It was almost impossible to understand what they were even seeing at first, as none of them had ever seen anything like it. The floor was uneven and lumpy, spotted in an arrangement of colors, but more than that, it was moving.

Nick’s blood ran cold in his veins. They were mammals, all of them; tiny animals dressed in disgusting rags and writhing in pain. Most of them shook uncontrollably, balled into themselves or each other and desperately reaching out to grab hold of anything around them. They were shades of grey and brown with long ears and legs, which only meant one thing; they were all rabbits. They were all rabbits that either shrunk into themselves further with the exposure or looked up in horror at the mass of predators looking down at them. 

One thing, though… One thing made the fox’s confused thoughts die in an instant. They were all wearing chains.


	2. /ztg/ Thematic Thursday 22 -- Opposite Day -- What We Gave Away

“Next!”

The goat standing at the booth’s counter heaped all of his belongings up haphazardly and took them into his arms, scampering off through the checkpoint at a brisk pace. For most, it would have been an odd sight seeing the prey scurry off with his personal property and important documents barely contained in his arms, but for all the guards and posted officials, it would have been stranger to see him linger. 

The crowd just beyond the counter shuffled sluggishly, the sea of mammals lined up through the snaking ropes and pathways barely moving a foot in an odd wave that stretched through the masses. They all carried with them a similar assortment of items: bags, suitcases, folders, and other random bits as if they were carrying everything that they couldn’t afford to lose. It was another sight that would seem rare to all except those mammals whose job it was to run the city’s customs agency. For them, it was an almost constant sight. 

A male deer at the front of the line was roused by the command shouted out over the mob of animals and trotted over through a tightly barricaded section, passing between a number of armed predators with his neck pulled into his shoulders. He stopped just short of the booth occupied by an incredibly disinterested looking fox, his russet fur finely combed and pruned underneath his sharp dark-grey military uniform. 

“Afternoon, sir,” the fox said, sticking a clawed finger down into the constricting, high collar that wrapped around his long neck. He continued running his finger down the edge of the insignia and brass rank laden collar, staring up at the deer with an unreadable expression. “ID and entry permit, please.”

Nick Wilde was not a mammal that particularly cared for the choking quality of his uniform, and cared even less still for the drab grey pallet, but he supposed it was better than what the deer got. His eyes trailed down onto the black nylon collar that was wrapped around the buck’s neck, a small metal box offset to the side with a flashing yellow light casually blinking away. With the constant tension and oppressive atmosphere of the checkpoint, the box’s green light was not so common. Even in the sea of other prey animals, all carrying their own size-specific collars, there was hardly a green light amongst them. 

The buck handed over a small paper-bound book with golden lettering along with a collection of loose paper, which the fox accepted without word. “Here’s everything.” Nick wasn’t all that surprised by the obviously fake smile across the buck’s muzzle, but then again he wasn’t surprised by much. He watched the hopeful incomer point his hoof at the stack of loose papers. “I also have my certificate of vaccination and medical exam.”

Nick waved his paw dismissively through the air, turning his attention to the small book. “Not necessary.” Flipping the book open, the front page displayed a glut of information about the buck standing before of him. From his name to various qualifications and descriptions, it was all typed out on special paper next to a large picture of the mammal in question. Raising his eyes to compare the picture to the mammal it was supposed to represent, the fox narrowed his vision at the cropped horns. 

The angular, raw-looking cuts made it clear enough that whoever was in charge of trimming the rack had done so far before when it was appropriate. Too early to sand down the sharp edges of the cut, obviously. If it was half as painful as it looked, there was no doubt in his mind that sanding it would have felt like scrapping exposed bone with a nail. Nick’s eyes fell back onto the passport, now making a concerted effort not to grimace at the thought. The picture wasn’t much better. Properly cropped and sanded, sure, but that was just a sign of similar treatment.

“What is the nature of your visit to Zootopia, Mr. Vanderfallow?” the fox asked, checking the list of bureaucratic information against what should be there. The buck didn’t really strike him as carrying fraudulent information, but that didn’t mean it didn’t violate any one of a number of codes or ordinances. He wouldn’t even be surprised if the color of his fur broke some kind of rule he wasn’t aware of.

“School,” he replied. “I’m an engineer from the Deerbrooke area, and I got accepted into the Party’s College of Mechanical and Electrical Design.” Nick glanced up to study the mammal as he spoke, scrutinizing every little twitch and gesture. Under the sharp eyes of the predator, the buck shifted uncomfortable between his legs, shrinking into himself. “I’m really excited to be here.” 

“Are you? How long do you expect to be staying?”

The mammal’s smile grew wider, though it did not reach his eyes. “Hopefully for the full semester.”

Nick’s ears perked up and his eyes scanned up and down the nervous deer. “The full semester?” When he was done analyzing him, his sharp, green eyes snapped up to stare directly into the deer’s, his expression remaining completely unreadable. “You are a little light on luggage, then.”

Chuckling insincerely, the mammal broke the connection between them and looked off to the side. “Yes, well I just got the letter this morning saying that I was admitted if I came to the city today.” The fox watched him for another moment before nodding, letting his eyes fall back onto the papers in front of him. “I know the checkpoints are closing for the remembrance festival tonight, so I didn’t even have time to go home.”

Nick had to keep himself from scoffing out loud, as it just figured. If he had a nickel for every time a mammal had nothing but the clothes on their backs and their identification papers for that very reason, he would never have to work again. He had sent more than a couple letters to his superiors about the number of mammals befallen that very circumstance, but not once did he receive so much as a reply as to its cause. Maybe that was just over his pay-grade. 

“Well, you are one very lucky deer, Mr. Vanderfallow,” Nick said, scanning his entry permit for errors, but finding none. “You are the last mammal through.” Satisfied with what he was seeing, Nick had finished going over everything that he needed to and found nothing out of order. Which was a good thing in his opinion. He really didn’t want to be the one to turn him away. Still, the fox kept his eyes on the entry permit, masking his relief with indifference. “Are you carrying anything that I should be aware of?”

“No, sir.”

Nick glanced up from the permit. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. It came out rushed and shaky, and the deer even shrunk further into himself at the accusation, but nothing about his response was cause for the fox to worry. 

Nick maintained his stoned-faced glare for another few seconds, just making the deer tremble more. As far as he could tell, the mammal wasn’t lying, which was something he was very good at. No doubt why his superiors stuck him in the run-down checkpoint in the first place. Even his highly sensitive nose couldn’t catch a whiff of anything.

Finally breaking their gaze, Nick looked down and shuffled all of the papers back into a neat pile. With a practiced motion, he flipped open the passport to a blank page and stamped it with the city’s insignia followed by the date. “Alright,” he said, handing the collection up to the deer. “Have a pleasant semester. You’re free to go.”

His words had an immediate effect on the mammal, his eyes lighting up and an enormous smile reaching up his muzzle. He took the papers graciously, bowing his head. “Thank you so much!” he said, his voice practically giddy. “Glory to the children of our Party!”

Nick’s ear twitched. He watched as the deer trotted off to the gate, every step having a bounce to it. The words had set off an irritating, dull droning in the fox’s mind, and he was barely aware that he even answered the mammal. “Glory,” was all that came out, completely lifeless. Nick spent another few seconds watching the heavily armed predator open the gate for the deer to pass through into the city, his mind elsewhere.

Something told him that he should not be so affected, especially when that phrase made him grate his teeth practically every time that he heard it. Maybe he was just spending too much time looking at the tired and worn down visages of prey. Without doubt the predator checkpoint was not so depressing. 

Nick let out an exhausted, ragged sigh and turned his attention back to the booth in front of him. He re-arranged a number of official papers and various manuals and pamphlets given to checkpoint Inspectors. The Party had outdone themselves this time, having given out guidelines on stricter entry rules for the festival. The newest pamphlet about remaining vigilant on the eve of the celebration struck him as so broad and all-encompassing that it practically gave them free-reign to deny entry to anyone.

The fox’s eyes slid shut for a moment, and he busied his mind with other thoughts, attempting to bury the nagging voice that was constantly complaining about the bureaucratic nightmare that he found himself accomplice to. At least he was going home early today. If nothing else, he could look forward to the cigarette that had been calling his name for the past three hours. Opening his eyes, Nick looked out over the crowd and the rest of the checkpoint.

It used to be a market square, at least from what he could tell. Some time ago, probably when the wall was constructed, the square had been converted to accommodate the long lines, and the shops and stalls that lined it wound up closing, one after the other. It probably looked pretty nice a long time ago, but now the brick and concrete ground was cracked and littered with trash and empty suitcases. All of the trees and plants growing out of the beds were neglected to the point of growing wild, with the flowers and groomed bushes being replaced by brown grass and weeds. 

In the afternoon sun, it didn’t look that bad. Even the razor-wire and the many faceless suits of riot armor didn’t strike him as being particularly malevolent. The posters plastered everywhere about the festival almost made it look like business as usual, which he supposed it was. It was a cool day in August, with soft clouds and a gentle breeze, so he had definitely seen worse over the years. The few mammals walking amongst the crowd with trays full of water or food at least made sure it wasn’t overly uncomfortable.

Not overly uncomfortable, but entirely pointless according to the clock. It was one-thirty, which meant the checkpoint was closed for the day. All the mammals patiently waiting in line since before the sun came up had done so in futility. How many of them would be denied a job or university position because of that, he did know. He didn’t really want to think about it, either.

Nick sighed again, pushing his stack of pamphlets and papers up to the top of his desk. “Pack it in, Delgato,” he called over his shoulder. “We’re done here.”

A lion standing off to the side wearing a similar uniform as Nick caught his eye. The large predator nodded at his orders, turning on his heels and marching down the barricaded passage. Idly organizing his desk for the checkpoint’s closure, he watched Delgato retrieve a megaphone from his utility belt and start shouting over the crowd, informing them that the checkpoint was closing. Just before the masses had a chance to react, Nick looked away, attempting to not hear the growing murmur of disappointment and despair. 

“Wait!” The voice was very loud, and filled with desperation. Still, Nick absentmindedly shuffled through the contents of his desk, not really doing anything. “Wait, please!” The second time made the fox’s ears twitch, and finally resigning himself to curiosity, he looked up. At first, he couldn’t tell who the voice had belonged to, with all of the mammals at the front of the line not exactly looking the type. It may have been loud, but it was very feminine, and he didn’t really see any of the large, surly prey at the front of the line being owner to it.

When he saw Delgato walking over to the source, he finally noticed it. It was a rabbit; only coming up to the knees of the large animals behind her, she was wearing a jeans and a pink flannel shirt, carrying a cream-colored suitcase with little carrots sewn into the front. “I have to get in today,” she pleaded, placing one paw on her chest as she stared up at the looming lion. “Please, I’ve been in line for hours.”

Nick clenched his jaw. “Sorry, ma’am,” he called, waving his paw through the air. Both the small bunny and the lion looked over in his direction, to which he just shrugged his shoulders. “Checkpoint’s closed.”

The rabbits jaw worked wordlessly for a second. “Bu-b-but I real-really need to get in,” she said, pressing the matter. Nick found himself captured by her desperate gaze, but narrowed his eyes when he saw her collar blink yellow. “Please.” The fox knew that there was only one way that this would go, and briefly he felt his mask cracking under the pressure of the heartbreak building up in the back of his throat. “There must be some—”

The collar flashed red, and the bunny seized up. Her face twisted into agony and she twitched with a soundless yelp as she collapsed to the ground, jerking about every time the electricity flared through her small body. Nick watched, not allowing himself to look away, as her mouth hung open in pain. It was almost a full three seconds before the collar flashed back down to a blinking yellow, and the bunny’s small body was wracked with choking sobs. She was shaking now, steadily propping herself up with her arms, trying to get back to her hind paws.

To Delgato’s credit, he kneeled down to the rabbit and carefully put his paws under her shoulders, slowly helping her up. “Alright, bunny. You heard the Inspector. Break it up.”

She wouldn’t reply. Whoever she was, she just kept her eyes locked to the ground while her nose twitched away. The crowd was already dispersing, but a few glanced in her direction with sympathetic looks, their ears back and their eyes turning to the ground as they shuffled away. Something about the scene disturbed him more than normal. Maybe it was the fact that it was a young, admittedly cute bunny, but Nick couldn’t help the pang of sorrow he felt for her. He stared, uncertainly, as Delgato began lightly pushing her away from the checkpoint.

Making up his mind, Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, his expression was unreadable. “Hold it, Delgato.” The lion stopped in his tracks, turning his head to meet the Inspector’s gaze, the bunny following suit. With both of their attention, he beckoned them over with one paw. “Come on. Hurry up before I change my mind.”

Delgato looked like he wanted to argue, but before he had the chance, the rabbit was bouncing down the checkpoint passage with her suitcase trailing behind her. The scowl on the lion’s face made Nick shoot him a warning glance before turning his eyes to the rabbit, watching her bounce the rest of the way to the booth. “Oh, thank you!” she said, an enormous smile on her face, large enough to proudly display her massive buck teeth. “I can’t tell you how much you’ve sa—”

“It’s no problem,” Nick said, cutting her off with a completely indifferent expression. The smile on her face shrunk somewhat, but she still maintained her happy demeanour. The checkpoint was constructed so Nick could accommodate larger prey animals, so from where he was sitting, he had to lean over the desk to look down at her. 

What immediately struck him was her rich, lavender irises, both a very soft shade. Nick had never seen anything like it, and coupled with her soft fur and features, she was breathtakingly beautiful, even for a rabbit. Which just made her heavy breathing and strained smile from the electrocution seconds before all the more troubling. What’s more, her ears were plastered on the back of her head and her nose twitched rapidly despite her smile, making Nick wonder if she was just the type of rabbit who naturally had limp ears, or she just didn’t have a reason for them to be up.

The fox made sure none of those thoughts showed themselves on his face, instead just remaining completely neutral. Under his unflinching gaze, the bunny shifted uncomfortably, shrinking into herself and holding her arms and luggage in front of her body as a shield. “ID and entry permit, please,” Nick finally said.

The bunny twitched at the harsh indifference in his tone, but ultimately handed up the small paper-bound book and an official looking piece of paper. Accepting them, Nick dropped them on the desk before flipping open the passport, seeing a very different looking rabbit. Prey weren’t required to wear their collars when their picture was taken for passports and other identifying credentials, so the rabbit before him was the picture of joy: beaming, bright-eyed, and ears standing at their full height. She had black tips on her ears, something Nick hadn’t noticed. 

The fox’s eyes trailed over to her name and other pieces of information, his brow hiking up at what he saw. He supposed he had nothing to say with a surname like ‘Wilde’, but ‘Hopps’ just seemed ridiculous. Judith Laverne Hopps, twenty-four, three feet tall, grey fur with lighter highlights, black tipped ears, etc, the list was extensive. Nothing was expired, all of the relevant data matched up with the entry permit, and the condition of the two items were immaculate. If the prints dates didn’t read several months ago, he would have assumed them to be brand new.

Nick flipped through the empty passport, noting the fact that the only stamp in the entire thing was from a cross-provincial checkpoint that very morning. “What is the nature of your visit to Zootopia?”

“Work,” the rabbit replied. Nick glanced up to watch her intently, scrutinizing her as she dropped the suitcase she was carrying on the ground and smoothed down her shirt with her paws. Even under his looming glare, she kept a soft smile across her lips. “I applied for a work permit six months ago, but I only got it late last night.”

Nick didn’t reply right away. “I see.” Looking back down at her entry permit, he went down the list without any real rush. The checkpoint was already closed, and there was no point trying to rush her through. “How long do you expect to be staying, Ms. Hopps?”

“Hopefully for the full two years.”

The fox’s ears perked up at that, and sure enough, the entry permit did display a full twenty-four month granted residency. If it was any longer, it would have to be classified as a matter of immigration instead of regular old entry, a fact that was not lost on him. “Two years?” he asked, looking up from the papers to study the rabbit in front of him. “When do you plan on getting your city identification?” 

“Tomorrow morning,” she replied, looking like she had no idea what to do with her paws. She would alternate between grabbing one wrist and then the other, finally settling on weaving her fingers together and letting her arms hang limply. Nick kept his trained eyes on her every movement, but she only returned his unwavering gaze with a smile. “They’re going to print it around six-thirty.”

Again, Nick found himself in the familiar state of suppressing a scoff. That figured, once again, that she had fallen victim to another one of those circumstances. “Ah,” Nick offered lamely, turning his eyes back down to her papers, though he wasn’t really looking at them. The Party didn’t print city identification twice, which meant that in all likelihood, the rabbit before him would have found herself at the Ministry’s doorstep too late, and those two years of previously approved residence would be forfeit. It was a wonder how there were any prey in the city at all.

It was no wonder to the fox now why she had been so distressed by the checkpoint’s closing, to the point of setting off her collar. He didn’t know how he should feel about the fact that she had to be electrocuted for her to get the time of day, but he supposed if that was all it took to hook suckers like him, it wasn’t all bad. “I see why you’re in such a rush,” he said. “Checkpoints won’t be opening until after seven. A lot of lucky mammals today...” His words trailed off into the afternoon breeze as he continued to stare blankly at her passport.

The rabbit’s soft voice roused his thoughts. “I’d like to hope so,” she replied, making Nick glance up to meet her gaze. She still wore her exceptionally patient, contented expression, though by the way her nose continued to twitch on the forefront of her short muzzle, it was no more genuine than his own.

Fresh passport, brand new entry permit, left in the dead of night, and carried nothing but a suitcase and the clothes on her back to live in a city she had never been to for two years, or maybe even more. The way prey seemed to just leave their entire lives in a ditch to live in a place he affectionately called a hellhole made him think the country must be a sight to see. The only thing that could explain such desperate fervor is if it was just wrought with famine and roving packs of feral beasts, a possibility he found only unlikely, rather than preposterous. The Party was good at keeping secrets. 

It seemed like the rabbit grew increasingly uncomfortable under his gaze, shifting her weight between her large hind paws. Nick himself wasn’t actually paying that much attention, and the small prey animal in his sights was really just window-dressing to a storm of thoughts that raged behind his seemingly indifferent eyes. 

It was some time before he even realized he was staring, quickly tearing his vision away from her anxious, lavender eyes and trailed down her body. If she was trying to smuggle something, he doubted anything she could conceal would warrant concern. Both the jeans and the shirt were rather snug around her curvy figure, leaving little to the imagination. 

When his eyes finally sunk all the way to the suitcase sitting idly on the ground, he paused. “I see you have a bag,” he said, sticking a clawed finger out in its direction. Nick glanced up to see the rabbit shift her eyes between the bag and him, that happy expression she was wearing waning. “May I?”

Her jaw worked wordless, and she again traded her vision between her suitcase and the fox. Hesitantly, she untangled her fingers and bent down to grab the orange plastic handle. “It’s just got clothes and things.”

As Nick reached out to accept the luggage, he attempted to give her a reassuring smile. “Just to be sure.” The reaction that had prompted made him think that maybe it was a tad bit inappropriate, on account of being too narrow and full of razor-sharp teeth. His lips pulled shut, though he tried to maintain a smirk at the very least. Nick could have sworn he used to be better at that.

Having leaned over the desk to retrieve the suitcase, he flopped back down onto the chair and dropped the bag on the desk in front of him. Nick spun it around by flicking one of the corners, catching it when the latches were facing him and deftly snapping the two metal clips loose. After that, all he had to do was snag a claw through on of the zippers and pull the entire thing open, flipping the lip open to reveal the contents below.

Clothes. Nick didn’t know what he had expected, but he supposed it should have been clothes. The suitcase was filled with pastel shirts and blouses, all neatly arranged and perfectly folder. Nick began digging through the contents, careful not to just ruin the packing job. Jeans, various household oddities, a toiletry bag, photo albums, from what he could see, there really wasn’t anything too unique about any of it. It was just another bag filled with everything a mammal needs.

At the bottom of the bag was her underwear, which he supposed to be plain enough. None of it was carefully folded and separated, having been piled up and dropped haphazardly onto the bottom, so he ended up rifling through the collection for anything sharp, metal, or otherwise illegal. Nothing, once again. The motion in front of him caught his eyes, and he saw the bunny fidgeting in place while nervously rubbing one of her ears, which had grown several shades darker.

Nick’s eyes snapped back down to the suitcase, seeing his paw buried to the wrist in her underwear. Retracting his paw and flattening back out the stacks of clothing, he attempted to be discrete this time when he drug large breaths through his snout around the suitcase. If rifling through her panties made her uncomfortable, then sticking his nose into her clothes would probably not put her at ease. It smelled old, which was odd. The clothing had obviously been packed some time ago, and then just left to idle in the bag.

It seemed like for the hundredth time that day, he had just boorishly rifled through another set of personal belongings without so much as the slightest concern for privacy, all so he could find nothing. Still, he continued on with his thorough search, running his padded finger across the linings and edges of the bag for hidden compartments, again finding nothing. The only part of the suitcase that remained was a woven mesh on the lid acting as a small pouch.

At least is wasn’t nothing this time. Mixed in with an assortment of random knick-knacks and what he assumed to be memorabilia from wherever she was from was something roughly wrapped in brown paper. Taking in in his paw, he used a sharp claw to rip the bag open to reveal its contents, three freshly picked carrots. They still smelled like dirt and had the distinct markings of the roots being snapped off by a pair of large buck teeth. 

Nick glanced up at the rabbit, who was staring at the carrots in despair. He held them up higher. “You don’t have a permit for this produce, do you?”

The rabbit’s eyes were quickly cast downward as she shrunk in defeat. “No.”

Sighing, he re-wrapped the orange vegetables. “Then I’m afraid we are going to have to confiscate it,” he said, taking the carrots under the desk and dropping them into a large tub already full to the brim. “Official protocol.”

She didn’t meet his gaze. “Okay.”

Nick watched her dejectedly kick some dirt with a hind paw, keeping her arms behind her back. If he didn’t know better, he would have assumed she was a kit pouting over not getting some cotton-candy. Rabbits were certainly an expressive species. Easier to read, he lamented. Turning back to her suitcase, he continued rooting around the pouch, plucking out everything that caught his eye and examining it closely.

“What kind of job to you have lined up?” he asked, squinting his eyes at a piece of a cork board, some type of doodle on it.

“Flower shop,” she replied. When Nick glanced up to give her a look, she just smiled. “I’m good with plants. Been a farmer all my life.”

Nick hummed. “Sounds peaceful.” 

Slowly, his paw tailed over to a stuffed rabbit, dressed up in a tiny police uniform. It was cute, if a bit on the implausible side. Looked custom made, too, which was a sight for sure. Rolling the plush toy around in his paw, he glanced back down into the suitcase, his eyes falling on the corner of a photo album laying underneath a stack of clothes. 

“Are you running from something?”

The question seemed to startle the rabbit, and he carefully lifted his eyes to meet her gaze, wearing an unreadable expression. It seemed that he had caused her nose to begin twitching again, this time with a renewed fervor. “Wh-what?” she awkwardly blustered.

Nick gave her no reprieve from his explicit scrutinization, keeping his piercing eyes on hers, unflinching. “Just seems kinda strange that you’d get a two year visa for a job in a flower shop,” he replied. “Makes me think that whatever it is you so desperately don’t want to go back to must be worse than walking neck first into the lion’s den.”

The twitch in her nose was probably painful with how fast it was going, and the rest of her body seemed to follow suit. Uncomfortable may not have been the right word. Terrified? Distressed? Nick didn’t know, nor did it really matter. She seemed to find her voice after a few seconds of being under his agonizing glare, her voice shaky and full of obviously fake confidence. “Staying in Zootopia is a personal dream of mine,” she replied, forcing a smile. “It’s the Party’s testament to our ability to live together in harmony. I would never think of the city as something dangerous.”

Nick just stared at her. After another moment of maintaining his show of uncompromising adherence to being a callous prick, he let his eyes fall back onto her suitcase, beginning the process of resealing it. “A bit of friendly advice,” he mumbled, barely audible. “I think it would be wise if you started to.”

Refusing to look up after that, he handed down the suitcase while he retrieved the passport. Once the bunny had accepted the luggage, it took him no time at all to flip the paper-bound book to an empty page and stamp it with the required insignia and date. “Alright,” he said, leaning over the desk to offer her passport and permit back. “Everything's in order. Enjoy your new life.”

The worry she had been wearing the entire time melted away, and for the first time, Nick saw the bunny from the photograph. The smile she wore was enormous, her buck teeth clearly visible, one shorter than the other. The fox thought that was cute, though he would never say it out loud. “Thank you,” she chirped, beaming. Nick couldn’t help but return her smile with a small smirk of his own, caught up in the bunny’s jubilant excitement. “Glory to the children of our Party!”

Just like that, his smirk was gone. He watched her turn on her heels and take skipping steps towards the gate, her tail swaying behind her. “Right,” Nick replied, though she was already out of earshot. “Glory.”

Nick watched her go for another moment, observing the armored predator more than four times her size push open the gate to let her through. The way she rubbed the spot on her neck where the metal prongs of the collar dug into her fur made Nick’s ears splay backwards. He kept watching her until she passed beyond his vision, the only thing remaining being a razor-wire and iron gate framed by a concrete wall and looming guard towers. That was about all he could do for her, let her in. Now she was alone in the Party’s capital, which he supposed was what she had wanted. 

“You’re lucky a supervisor wasn’t sniffing around.”

Nick’s train of thought was broken, and he glanced up to the lion standing before the booth, arms crossed. “Like I said, a lot of lucky mammals out today.”

The lion narrowed his eyes. “Don’t play with fire, Nick,” he warned. “You’re already on thin ice.”

Scoffing, he turned on his chair and hopped down onto the ground. Nick stood in place for a moment, twisting his spine and joints to shake the long hours of sitting down off. “I’ll take that into consideration,” he replied, sauntering over to the door. Delgato kept his eyes on the fox as he rounded the corner and out into the open. Whether or not the lion was warning him out of actual concern or if he was just begrudgingly doing so because of his rank, he didn’t know. It’s not like he cared all too much, anymore. It was a bit late to want to be in the Party’s good graces.

A breeze ran through the plaza, rustling through the overgrowth and across the faces of the forgotten buildings. It was amazing how quiet it got after the checkpoint closed. He knew there were shantytowns and masses of hold-up prey just out of sight, waiting for the exact moment the checkpoint opened again so they could go back to waiting in line. He knew because he had played a part in tearing quite a few of them up. Still, it was as silent as if it was deserted. The creeping vines that split the brick walls only added to the aesthetic.

Delgato was standing next to him, staring out over the plaza in the same manner. There was no denying the oppressive atmosphere that lay on every brick and leaf after closing. They all knew the number of prey that had just lost their one shot, it was just most of them either didn’t care or actually found it funny. Delgato wasn’t one of them. Nick always saw the scowl on his face after looking over the defeated mob shuffling away.

“Are you all good here?” Nick asked, not turning to his subordinate. 

The lion looked down at him. “We’re fine,” he said distantly. “Have a good festival, Inspector.”

Nick turned on his heels and walked for the gate, not standing on ceremony or even giving so much as a passing remark to all of the armed guards slowly making their way back into the walls. He didn’t notice the salute he got while strolling through the gate, or even the call to dismissal ordered by Delgato. His mind was far too troubled to give such things purchase, and wound up just wandering down the street without any real goal in mind.

Somewhere down the street Nick had retrieved a pack of cigarettes and lighter from his pocket, bound together by a rubber band. The motions of smacking the bottom of the package to biting into a filter to pull it free of its paper box were rehearsed to the point of being subconscious. He only put the slightest thought into the deed when he had to shield the flame of the lighter from the breeze with his paws, igniting the bound fibers. He pulled a long drag off the cigarette, letting it fill his lungs to capacity.

The way he blew the smoke out of his snout burned, like it always did, and it effectively blinded him to the scents of the city for that brief moment. No more crowd of terrified prey, no more filthy, trash laden streets, no more city, no more bunny… Just smoke. With green eyes locked on the cracked pavement, it was almost like he could pretend, if it wasn’t for the military uniform invading his vision, clinging to his body. Nick took a larger drag, drawing out blowing the smoke through his snout this time. It was painful, but what wasn’t?

There were hardly any cars in this side of the city, even less around the checkpoint. Even if there were, they would have a hard time traversing the concrete barricades and leftover debris from whatever mess contributed to the state of the streets. Half the buildings were boarded up, and the other half were the ones that sat empty. It would be a warzone if the casings that littered the curb hadn’t been fitted for rubber bullets, but then again, it wasn’t like there weren’t a couple of them that hadn’t been real.

He couldn’t see any prey, but he could smell them between blinding drags of his cigarette. They were off in hidden corners, probably cowering at the site of a party Inspector walking down the street. There was even the occasional trash can being knocked over by a fleeing mammal. This was the sight that all those bright-eyes prey saw after passing through the gate. He had to wonder what they thought of it. Was it better or worse than they expected? Maybe by virtue of being behind the wall it was better, by he found that hard to believe.

The cigarette was down to the filter before he even realized it. Scowling, he tossed it on the street and stepped on it as he went, retrieving his pack for a second. He’d be home soon. Maybe then he could pour himself a drink, kick his paws up, and just forget that he existed, celebration be damned. The remembrance festival was always something he’d rather forget, ironically enough, and today was no exception. The notion might have even been worse this year, actually.

Did he even have any alcohol left at his place? Between what he had last night and the fact that he broke the bottle the rest was in, he doubted it. If he was going to have to drag his sorry tail to the grocery store, he wouldn’t do it in uniform, which meant he had to go home, change, go to the store, and then finally not have to do anything else. Which meant that the festival would probably be already happening, and that meant noise. Noise and a bunch of rowdy, marching mammals. Nick thought about how much he hated festivals as he went to light his next cigarette. 

The streets were quiet, even so late in the afternoon. He hadn’t seen so much as another soul since he left the checkpoint, which was all the same to him. The scummy, trash filled streets at least looked peaceful when there was no one else around. Nick lazily unbuttoned his constricting collar from as he took another drag, letting a large tuft of russet fur billow out. He rubbed a pain in the back of his neck as a military truck full of armed predators sped by, most of them giving the fox salutes to which he half-heartedly sent back his own.

He hoped it was worth it, that every misplaced dream and ambition of the prey that entered the city was realized and then some. Maybe then he could have the peace of mind in not thinking he was just a gatekeeper to the other side of the fence, where the shade of the grass was exactly the same, only the pasture was a fraction of the size and full of power-hungry monsters with guns. At least they get festivals, right?

Nick was brooding as he strolled down the street, still not sure if it was the direction he even wanted to go. A trail of smoke followed him as he went, flaring into large billowing clouds every time he felt the pressing need to burn his sense of smell away, which was often. He only slowed his pace when he glanced up for a brief second, a strange sight catching his attention. Standing right in the middle of a junction, staring up at a road sign, was a rabbit, black tipped ears draped over her shoulder and carrot dotted suitcase in paw.

Briefly, Nick turned his head to look back the way he came, debating if he should just double-back to avoid her. He couldn’t imagine she wanted an Inspector crawling up her neck on her first day. It was bad enough that she had to watch him rummage through her stuff. No point in making her think that he was now following her. Making up his mind, he stopped in his tracks and started backing away, prepared to turn around, only he kept his eyes on her.

It was very clear she had no idea where she was going by the way she kept looking down both streets, unable to make up her mind. He even found it a bit humorous when she hopped out into the middle of one street, only to turn and hop over to the middle of the other, eyes wide and nose twitching the entire time. No matter, it wasn’t his problem. He should just turn around and walk, she’d get to where she was going to go… Eventually. 

He almost left too, if it wasn’t for the fact that the festival would be starting soon, which meant she’d be lost in a crowd of mammals, all of which were more than twice her size, while carrying everything she owned in the world. Nick tried to convince himself that he didn’t care, that she didn’t need his help, but he still wound up walking towards her. After the day he had, maybe giving a lost rabbit some directions would make him sleep easier. Probably not. But it was worth a try. Maybe.

Stopping just short of her, he watched her struggle for another few moments before speaking up. “Are you lost?”

The rabbit must have jumped several feet up into the air, completely startled. When she whipped around and saw a fox Inspector, her face twisted in fright for a brief second before morphing into a forced smile. “N-no,” she said, pulling into herself. Her collar, which had been idling at a comfortable green, had plummeted into a blinking yellow. Yeah, Nick should have just kept his mouth shut and walked away. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“It’s really no trouble,” he said through the cigarette still in his mouth, taking a step back and holding up his paws. “I can point you in the right direction, at least.”

She just stared at him for a moment, nose twitching away. Nick almost thought he should just turn-tail and let her get back to being lost until a troubled expression stretched across her face. The bunny looked down at her hind paws, shrinking in defeat. “It’s just that I’m really hungry. I haven’t seen anything except predator restaurants, and I—” Her head snapped up with a panicked expression, the collar making an audible warning beep as she waved her free paw in the air. “I mean, I’m fine with going to one of those, but I just don’t know if they’ll have what I like!”

Nick blinked at the outburst. He honestly couldn’t guess what had set her off. Did she think he would be offended she didn’t want to walk into a restaurant that smelled like fish and bugs? Hell, he didn’t even want to go into one of those greasy cesspools around here. Carefully, he pointed down the street that split off to the right. “There’s a herbivore place just down this road,” he said. “I’ve never been in there myself, but I pass it all the time on my way to work.”

It was her turn to blink, staring up at the fox dressed in an unbuttoned military uniform with a cigarette in his mouth. Her jaw worked wordlessly for a few seconds before she let out a squeak, turning and smoothing down her ears on the back of her head. “Thanks.”

Nick only nodded, gesturing for her to follow as he started down the street. She remained where she was for a long moment before springing into action, jogging up next to him and matching his pace. To say it was an uncomfortable silence was probably putting it lightly, as both parties were actively avoiding looking in each other’s direction, let alone at each other. Every connecting alley and street was making Nick wonder if he should just lie and say he was going in a different direction. 

They remained like that for a while, both walking in silence. Every few seconds, Nick would take another drag only to blow the smoke out away from the rabbit awkwardly. The scenery slowly changed as they went, the deserted buildings and broken infrastructure around the checkpoint slowly transitioning into a more living part of the city. There were still no other pedestrians around, but at least it didn’t look like it had been abandoned for ten years. That’s not to say it looked nice. Prey neighborhoods, with all their potted flowers and swept streets, were still relegated to the poorest spots in the city.

As they walked, Nick stole glanced over to his traveling companion. She was taller than she looked from the booth, but still fairly short, and walked with her suitcase out in front of her. Gazing down at the ground, it almost looked like she was smiling with lidded eyes, barely paying attention to her surroundings. A lot of prey walked with their head down, and it gave him a clear view of the angry green light holding a solid color. 

The dark grey metal box was secured around her by thick, black nylon. Now that he was up close, he could see that it reached pretty much the entirety of her slim neck, from her rounded shoulders to her jaw. Nick always thought the collars looked the most cruel on the smallest prey animals. On elk, ox, hippos, and the like it just looked like an ornament, but on the bunny beside him it looked practically choking. He couldn’t imagine even being able to turn your neck very well with something like that on.

As if she could feel his eyes on him, she looked up to meet his gaze, immediately ripping her eyes away the moment they connected. She was staring at the ground again, this time with a yellow, blinking light on her neck. Nick couldn’t help but sigh, turning his head away to take another drag off his cigarette. After that, they maintained their silence for the rest of the journey, all the way until Nick stopped outside a small storefront with an open sign. The name ‘Greener Pastures Diner’ was written out over the door.

Looking over to the bunny, he gestured his paw towards the restaurant. “Right here,” he said. Despite the so-called ‘greener’ pastures, the place wasn’t exactly gourmet. It wasn’t the worst thing he had seen in the world, but if the wilted and weed infested flower pot on the stoop was anything to go by, he wouldn’t put money on it being good. No bugs or fish, though, so it was perfect for the rabbit.

She smiled up at him, breaking off from their shared path and hopped up the steps. “Thank you, again,” she said, stopping just short of the door handle to lean off the stoop, waving at him. “I don’t know how I could repay you for all the help!”

Nick hummed, not quite a smile reaching over his muzzle. “Well, maybe one day I’ll end up needing some flowers,” he said, turning away from her. “Have a good afternoon, Carrots.”

Nick just waved over his head, not giving her any more than that as he strolled down the street. He did pay attention to how the door still didn’t open for several seconds, though, which he assumed meant she was watching him go. By the time the bell on the restaurant's door jingled when it closed, Nick sighed heavily. He didn’t know if that little display of hypocritical generosity would make him sleep any better, but maybe she wouldn’t go hungry. Plenty of prey in a place like that, so she might even be able to ask for directions. 

She’d be off doing her own thing, and he’d never see her again. Nick never saw any of the mammals that went through his checkpoint again, and he doubted this would be any different… What was her name again? After a moment he recalled it to be Judy Hopps, and the oddities of her case rushed back to him. Shaking his head, he dislodged the thought, reminding himself he wasn’t trying to solve anything anymore, he was just supposed to look at passports and stamps pages.

He told himself he didn’t really care, anyway. As long as nothing like that came up again on his way home, he’d be halfway into a bottle in no time. He should probably hit up the corner store for more cigarettes, too, not that he thought about it. From past experience, he knew that he shouldn’t waste the rest of his day off by being sober. If he got a call halfway into the night to come in, they’d get an ear-full of liquor. Good. He almost wished they’d call just so he could make it clear he wasn’t on beck and call like some d—

The door of the restaurant exploded open, making Nick swivel around to glare down the street. The first thing out the door was the suitcase, tossed roughly out onto the street without a care. Next, making the fox’s ears splay back on his head, he saw the bunny, Judy, being roughly shoved out the door by a gangly looking elk, absent a rack of antlers. 

“If you don’t have city identification, you ain’t getting any food, flatfoot,” he snarled, a deep scowl twisting up his lips dangerously. Judy tumbled down the stoop of steps and landed hardly on her butt next to her suitcase, flinching when the large elk waved his hoof out over the street angrily. “Now scram! Go eat some carrots out of the garbage.”

The elked spun around and marched back into the shop, slamming the door closed behind him, obviously unaware that a fox was watching the whole thing play out. Judy seemed to just stare blankly at the door, still reeling from the whole ordeal. Nick watched as she finally pulled herself out of her bewilderment and into a fetal position, her collar blinking rapidly, emitting the light warning tone loud enough for Nick to hear from all the way down the street.

Without realizing it, he found himself drifting back towards her, his eyes locked on the even smaller looking rabbit. He had seen a lot of prey huddle up like that in the past, and had quickly come to realize that it was how a lot of them controlled their breathing. Burying their faces in their arms or knees, pretending the world didn’t exist, it kept them from activating their collars. There was no doubt that this was what she was doing, by the way the blinking slowed the more time went by.

He was already right next to her, and he still didn’t know what to do. He tried to offer her directions, and she almost set off her collar from him scaring her. He tried to show her to a prey restaurant so she could get something to eat, and she got thrown out and almost set off her collar. Statistically speaking, it would be better for him to just leave her there, but he didn’t. Even if every attempt to help did more harm than good, it just made him want to help more. He was digging himself deeper every time.

Nick slowly crouched down, squatting onto his toes and supporting himself by placing his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head to the side, peering down at her. “I believe that was partly my fault,” he said, keeping his tone low and soothing even though he knew it was the voice of a predator. There was nothing soothing about honeyed words that slid out of razor sharp teeth. “I guess it slipped my mind that a place like this would probably require an ID.”

Gradually, she tilted her head on her knees to look at him, meeting his gaze over her shoulder. They searched each other’s eyes until she broke the connection, looking away and continuing her breathing. From the color on her neck, it was working. “No,” she whispered. “It’s not your fault.”

The sight sent pangs of sympathy through his body, causing his ears to lower on his head. She was having a rough couple days, he guessed. From what he could tell, her only real break was actually getting into the city, which he wouldn’t call a break in the slightest, but then again he didn’t spend a whole lot of time in the country. Nick recalled how he had been lamenting on the fact that she was now completely alone, a number of looming obstacles between her and the family so prominently displayed in her picture albums. 

“Did you get a look at the menu?” The words came out before he even had a chance to stop them. Almost immediately, he was fighting with himself about whether or not he had lost his mind.

Judy perked up at the question, lifting her head again to meet his gaze. “What?”

“The menu,” he replied, jerking his snout in the direction of the restaurant. “Did you see if they serve fruit or anything like that?”

Her mouth opened, then closed. She stared at him, completely bewildered by the question, and tilted her head to the side. “I think so?” she said, unsure.

Nick stood up in a flash, somewhat startling the rabbit in front of him. “Well,” he said, plucking the cigarette out of his mouth and tossing it to the ground. “I don’t have anywhere to be right now, and I’m kinda getting a little famished myself.” When he looked down at the thoroughly confused bunny, he smiled. No more crooked, toothy grin or awkward expression, it was easy, comfortable even. It reached all the way to his lidded eyes, and he offered a paw down to her. “Come on. They won’t tell me to scram.”

She hesitated in taking his paw, but finally she carefully reached up to accept it. Her paw was tiny compared to his, so he grabbed it cautiously, only as firm as he had to. “You don’t have t—” She squealed when he pulled her up onto her hind paws, placing her on the ground upright without the slightest effort. 

When she got over the initial shock, she watched him bend over and grab ahold of her suitcase, offering it to her as he straightened out. Judy accepted it gratefully, but still wore a mixture of emotions on her features. Nick just smiled wider and started up the steps, beckoning her to follow. When he came to the door, he turned, seeing she hadn’t moved from her spot.

“Think of it as me making up for taking your carrots away, Carrots,” he said, once again waving her to follow. This time, another genuine smile reached up her lips, and she came up the stairs after him. Nick opened the door and gave her a mock bow, stepping off to the side. “After you.”

She giggled at that, making Nick’s already large smile grow wider. When she walked past him she gave her own little curtsy, walking into the restaurant she was just thrown out of with her head held high. The fox hummed at that, following her in and letting the door close behind them.


	3. /ztg/ Thematic Thursday 23 -- Private Investigator -- I Want to Hear You Say It

There were glimpses of memories long forgotten, where the world was soaked in the evening sun. They rippled like heat over the desert sand, but no sound accompanied the visions except the ghostly ambience of a blank record. Ever changing, the images never lasted long enough for their meaning to be understood, though their importance was never questioned, and between the unfocused transitions of vaguely familiar places, there was a sense of belonging, of acceptance, and of purpose. It beckoned a closer inspection, but it was always out of reach, flittering away just as it seemed possible to grasp.

Then, just as soon as it had come, the orange hue of memory bled into the void. The faintest glimpses of the past faded, and with it the memory of them even existing. In its wake came the gradual, dull droning of reality, slowly creeping through the cracks of sleep. The sensation was not unpleasant, as the residual calmness of slumber rounded the rough edges of the world. It had been an unknowable amount of time before the first real sparks of consciousness came to pass.

The first thing Nick Wilde felt was thirst. It wasn’t vital that he found water immediately, but it was enough to make his mouth feel like cotton. Another moment passed, and what followed was a steady escalation of pain in the back of his head, resulting in a dull throb that had his ears pulling back. Nick came to understand that he was lying on his back, sprawled out without any amount of covering except for the clothes he was wearing last night; his collar shirt was barely hanging onto his shoulders and his pants were loose around his waist.

He did not have time to dwell on the uncomfortable sensations, though, as just as the world was coming into focus, another feeling caught his attention. At first it was just the vague sense that there was someone else near him, but soon after a paw brushed across the fur of his neck.

The night before flooded back into Nick’s mind, and he instantly knew who the paw belonged to. It feathered the tips of his fur for a moment before plunging down into his coat. Tiny fingers wove their way through his fur and down towards his skin, where they scratched lightly at his neck. Nick was no longer bothered by the headache, and instead stretched his body out as he enjoyed the dull claws scraping through his fur, letting out a contented sigh.

Stretching out his body seemed to have taken all of his energy, because when he was done, he just went limp, surrendering himself to the gentle caress of his throat. A second paw joined the first after a time, and they both went to work exploring the recesses and dimples of his neck, making the fox involuntarily lift and tilt his chin to give them better access. Nick’s tail began to thump against whatever he was sleeping on when one of the paws slid up to just under his ear, digging into the base and tracing the shape below his fur.

Nick hummed, his voice shaking and jittery from the sensation. “That’s a nice way to wake up,” he mumbled, smiling from ear to ear.

A breathy, yet bubbly giggle emanated from just above him. “Yeah?” she whispered back, her voice heavy with seduction. “Do you like that?”

The fox only responded by letting out a deep rumble from his chest, twitching every time one of her dull claws caught a sensitive nerve. He could do nothing but bask in the glow of the attention, unable to even so much as open his eyes to look at the mammal currently running their claws across his skin. It was so relaxing that he did not even notice one of the paws leaving his neck, that is, until he felt it slide down his stomach.

Still mostly focused on the feeling of being thoroughly scratched, Nick’s abdomen twitched for every deliberate inch the paw slid downward. There was nothing but his thin undershirt between her paw and his chest, but he could still feel its warmth. He moaned when the paw reached the hem of his shirt, brushing against the fur just above his boxers. 

A playful growl escaped his mouth as Nick writhed under her touch. “Ooh…” he said, receiving another series of light giggles from above. When her paw dipped down to grab the edge of his boxers, Nick did not even notice the fact that she had removed her other paw from his neck. “Was I that good last night? Can’t keep your paws off m—”

Nick’s words were cut off when an icy-cold deluge poured down onto his head, making him sputter and gasp as he bolted upright. The fox blinked, squinting out into the dimly lit room now that he was fully awake, his peace thoroughly ruined. Slowly, his snout tilted to the side, pointing directly at the mammal standing nonchalantly with an empty glass in paw. It was all he could do to not growl threateningly at her when she looked like nothing had happened.

It was a bunny, shorter than him but with long legs, black tipped ears, and a set of lavender eyes that shone even in the gloomy light. Her name was Judy Hopps, and she was his partner, in more ways than one. Despite that, she stood before him completely impassive, dressed in nothing but one of his shirts, her grey fur slightly damp from a shower. He could smell the shampoo.

The fox’s sharp eyes narrowed at the empty glass in her paw before snapping back up to meet her gaze. “What the hell was that for?” he asked, settling back down onto his elbows and assessing the damage the glass of water caused.

Her nose rose up into the air and she glared at him down the length of her short muzzle. “I told you to go easy, and now I’m sore,” she said. Nick glanced up, jaw slack with disbelief. Judy spun around and sat the glass down onto their cluttered coffee table before walking off into the apartment. “Thanks to you I’m going to be walking funny all day.”

Nick couldn’t believe it. Flopping back down onto their grungy couch, he exhaled for a long moment in exasperation. He could recall pretty clearly what she was talking about, even through the haze of alcohol that clogged his memory: the crummy dinner they whipped up out of scraps, the bottle of bourbon they cracked open right after that, the heavy petting, the desperate need that possessed them, all of it. 

Even the end was clear in his mind, where they found themselves in the rather mandator position of having to sleep very close to each other, which he assumed was the reason his pants were undone. Looking back, though, he didn’t remember her complaining at the time.

Staring up at the ceiling, he ran a paw over his now drenched neck, lamenting the feeling of Judy’s scratching. His brow creased on his forehead. “That’s why you’re angry?” he said. When he didn’t get a response, Nick tilted his snout around, looking off in her direction. She did have a slight limp in her step as she made her way through the cluttered apartment, and it did make him feel slightly worried, but his sympathy had gone the same way as his peaceful rise from slumber.

Nick growled while he twisted around to prop himself up on one elbow, using his free paw to prod the dark spots on the cushion below him. “You do realize we sleep on this couch, right?” he asked. “It’s soaking wet now.”

“Thanks for your concern about my well being,” she called back across the room. “It means a lot.”

Nick glanced up in her direction, his ears pulling back against his head, ready to shoot back with some sarcastic remark. Unfortunately, he was just in time for Judy to rip open the old curtains that stood as the only barrier between the nocturnal predator and the harsh light of day. Yelping, the fox cringed and jerked sideways at the sharp pain in his eyes, losing his place on the couch and tumbling to the floor.

Now splayed out on the weathered hardwood flooring, Nick kept his eyes pressed tightly shut and growled again. The only response he got was from the rabbit humming back at his displeasure. Nick stayed on the ground for a moment, but eventually he realized that he would have to move at some point, so he might as well get it over with. He blinked and struggled to keep his eyes open with the afternoon sun beaming directly at him, wishing she would just close the curtains now that she had made her point.

It took no small amount of effort to force his body upright, and even more to keep himself from toppling over once his vision went white and his head lost its weight. He was barely able to direct his fall back onto the cushion. Rubbing the back of his neck as he recovered, the dull throb of his headache returned with a vengeance, making his shoulders and neck pull together as he winced.

“Come on,” Judy called out to him. “Get ready.” 

Nick frowned. He could see more than just white now, which was a notable improvement, but the rather abrupt way to wake up accompanied by the hard drop to the floor did not improve the already existing discomfort. They only served to make it worse. Opening his eyes, the fox focused on the coffee table in front of him. From books, to loose papers, to empty bottles, and so much more, the short wooden table was covered in several layers of junk. He began rummaging around the most accessible heaps of disorganized clutter, searching.

“It’ll be dry by the time we get back,” she said.

This time, she had gotten his attention. Glancing up at her from across the apartment, he gave her a demanding look as he tossed an empty carton back onto the table. He continued searching despite that, sure he still had a pack somewhere.“Get back?” he asked, cocking his brow. “Where are we going?” Just then, he spotted his cigarettes and swiped them off the table, smacking the bottom of the carton on his palm a few times before retrieving one of them with his teeth, discarding the small box back where he found it.

Judy spun around and smiled at him triumphantly with lidded eyes, her arms locked behind her as she leaned in towards him. “We’ve got a case.”

Nick gave her an incredulous look as the flint in his lighted sparked, igniting the cigarette in his mouth. He sucked in a long breath of nicotine soaked air before blowing an enormous cloud up towards the ceiling. “Bullshit.”

“It’s true,” she replied, spinning around and continuing through the apartment. “I just got off the phone with Mikhail.”

For a moment, Nick was distracted by the fact that she was only wearing his shirt, and her short, fluffy tail had ridden the fabric up past her rear. His mind was snapped back into reality when her words caught up with him, though, and he glared at her. “Mik? What kind of case did you get us mixed up with?”

Still nonchalantly walking away, she tilted her head over her shoulder without looking at him. “It’s just a robbery they want to keep off the books,” she replied. Nick watched her round the edge of a large, hardwood desk that sat out in the middle of the room, with only her ears being visible once she was behind it. She hopped up onto a equally large chair that faced his direction, scanning the contents of the desk. “Apparently it’s some antique shop off Drift street that’s been paying for protection.”

It seemed like again Nick had to suppress a growl. Sucking a shrill breath through his teeth, he glared off into space and pulled another drag off his cigarette. “Mob jobs…” he grumbled under his breath, blowing out a quick puff of smoke in annoyance.

Now that things had settled down, and the fox was now fully awake, he took stock of his surroundings. The apartment was cramped and cluttered despite how open it was, with every available space of the walls being covered in newspaper clippings, shelves, bookcases, wardrobes, and other drab, stained wood furniture. The portions of the floor not being used as storage for stacks of beaten files boxes and other frivolous junk had a healthy coating of dirty clothes, discarded papers, empty bottles, and other useless odds and ends. 

Their apartment consisted of two rooms, though you would not be remiss to claim that it was only one, as the divider between the two identically shaped spaces was made of thin trimming and glass, and had only been opened once, with piles of boxes or bags preventing them to be closed even if they wanted to. Tall, imposing windows lined one side of both rooms, though most of them were blocked by heavy, felt drapes that reached all the way to the floor and then some. The large parting that Judy had created, as well as some small cracks in the fabric wall, was enough to bathe the apartment in an orange glow, illuminating the clouds of wispy smoke and casting deep streaks of shadow.

Besides the old couch and packed coffee table, the room that Nick was in consisted mostly of a kitchenette behind him, with the wall opposite of the windows housing a collection of stocky, wooden pieces: a pair of dressers, a wardrobe, and a vanity desk, all with various items piled onto or hanging off of them. A lulling hum came from the ceiling fan above him, the blades uselessly copping at the thick air overhead.

The room beyond the lame barrier was more of an office of sorts, with their shared desk taking up the majority of the space in the center of the room, facing the couch. Besides the bookshelves, piled up file boxes, framed corkboards all with different elaborate webs of string and pictures leaned up against each other, and more than a few open boxes filled with bottles, there really wasn’t much to look at. 

Nick’s attention fell onto the rabbit when she started typing away on their well-used typewriter. She seemed to be absorbed in whatever she was doing, and looking rather professional as she did it, but he couldn’t help but find it funny how small she looked sitting on a chair five times her size, at a desk far too large for her. His eyes lingered a little longer as he looked at her ears draped limply over her shoulders, and ran his eyes over the ruff of white fur that poked out the oversized collar.

Shaking his head, Nick took a final drag off his cigarette before tossing it into the empty glass that Judy had used to douse him with water, and swiped a half-empty bottle of bourbon off the table. Popping the top off, he didn’t stand on ceremony and took a deep swig, cringing at the sting when he swallowed. He was replacing the cap back onto the bottle when he noticed that Judy had stopped typing, and was glaring at him. 

Nick gave her a toothy smile. “It’s just to stave off the headache, darling.”

Judy scoffed, shaking her head. “Well, take a Beayer,” she said, gesturing wildly with her paw. “We don’t get enough work as it is, and I don’t need you blowing fumes into our client’s muzzles.”

Blinking back, Nick just hummed at her with lidded eyes, placing the bottle back onto the table. He pushed himself off the couch and teetered on the edge of balance, his tail swinging out to correct himself. “Suit yourself,” he mumbled.

Now that he was upright and wasn’t in immediate danger of falling over, he looked down at himself. His yellowing collar shirt barely hung off his shoulders, revealing his sleeveless undershirt below and a health amount of fur sticking out at his shoulders and neck. His pants were in a similar state, fly and clip undone and splayed out in either direction, barely clinging to his hips and showing off his faded boxers. Grumbling, he pulled his pants up by the waistline and refastened them as he walked around around the table and towards the wardrobe. 

The old iron hinges creaked when he swung open the door, letting loose a wall of musty air. His snout crinkled as he peered into the mess of clothes, hats, and various belts, sashes, and holsters for any number of things. They were all in muted or fading colors, lights creams, sepias, blues, and greys all meshed together in the packed compartment. If there was one thing he missed about his youth, it was getting to wear color. 

Nick looked back down at his disheveled attire with a cocked brow. Bringing up one of his paws, he grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and brought it up to his snout, taking in a long breath of air through the fabric. Just as he suspected, it reeked. It wasn’t just his own musky scent, though, it was cigarettes, booze, old food, and the two most prominent of them all, sex and a particular grey bunny. 

Frowning, Nick tilted his head back towards Judy, who was still typing away practically in the nude. “Do you think I’ve got time for a shower?” he called out to her, thumbing through the sleeves of the shirts hanging in the wardrobe.

The typing stopped for a moment as Judy thought. Eventually, she shook her head and glanced over the top of the typewriter, leaning into her elbows over the desk. “No,” she said casually, “just change.” Nick rose a brow and turned to meet her gaze, giving her a look that said everything it needed to. She wasn’t swayed. Judy went back to typing, her padless fingers dancing off the keys without error. “Your scent gets really strong on me, but it’s not so bad when it’s just mine on you. I already took a shower when I woke up, so I think we should be fine if you just change clothes.”

Nick shot out a quick puff of air from his snout. “Says you. I reek of rabbit.”

The loud snapping sound of Judy clicking her tongue off her enormous buck teeth split the air. “Then put on some Musk mask, Nick,” she replied sharply. “We’re going to be late.” 

Flashing an easy smile in her direction, he didn’t take her annoyance to heart. Even the rude awakening was probably deserved somehow, if not for something he did last night or the night before that, for simple karma. He had gotten good at brushing things off, and thankfully that sort of thing was a rare occurrence. What’s more, impatience was always to be expected when Judy caught a whiff of a case, even if it was for some jumped-up polar bear mobsters. 

Nick thought about how he hated working for Koslov as he pulled out a cream-colored shirt, inspecting it for any stains or blemishes. It was all fine and good to be on the Mob’s good side, but he really did not want to have anything to with them. He didn’t know how to feel about being their mammals to call when they needed an independent investigation without the cops knowing. The money was nice, he supposed, but it wasn’t worth the risk. Not by a long shot. Not with TUSK breathing down the city’s neck.

Fishing out a plain black tie, the pad of his thumb ran over the fraying edges of the keeper loop. Ordinary that it might have looked, it was irreplaceable. Most of his clothes were. Hastily grabbing the first pair of brown slacks available, Nick turned on his heels and draped the collection of clothes over the couch’s arm. Now that his paws were free, he began shrugging off the collar shirt still hanging onto his shoulders, and balled it up, discarding it to be dealt with later.

Nick turned again, this time walking towards the corner of the room, where an old white door flanked the kitchenette. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he called over his shoulder. The fox waited for when she stopped typing to start swishing his bushy tail from side to side. “We share a den, you’re not going to be escaping my scent. You’d have to walk from the shower to the front door in a chem suit just to have a chance.”

Judy rolled her eyes and went back to tapping away on the typewriter. “Don’t remind me.”

Chuckling as he pushed open the door, he gave her a sultry look. “You know you love it,” he replied, catching a glimpse of her glaring through her brow at him, fighting a smile.

Just like that he ducked into the room. It was a damp space, taller than it was wide. The walls were covered in tile only about halfway up, the rest being peeling wallpaper with water splotches ruining the angular aesthetic. The cast-iron sink, toilet, and clawfoot bathtub, complete with a medicine cabinet and a bent curtain rod with stiff, stained curtains, were the only real piece of note in the cramped space. There was an even larger amount of piled up clothes that sloped off the walls, and a drying mat with a cartoonish carrot adjacent to the tub, but that was it.

Nick stepped up to the sink, pushing a small metal stool out of the way with his hind paw. The bathroom still smelt like one of Judy’s showers, with her special shampoo and frankly frivolous use of hot water. So much so that the mirror was still mostly fogged. As he inspected the assortment of items left on the precarious position of the sink’s thin ledge, he pulled his sleeveless shirt up over his head, tossing it into one of the piles haphazardly. 

With practiced movement, Nick swiped a can labeled ‘Musk mask’ off the lip of the sink, turning it around in his paw and lifting his arms to spray the scent masker under his pits. His paw shook through the air violently as he gave himself a healthy coating of the aerosol, staring at himself blankly in the mirror. Once he was finished with his chest and forearms, he stuck a clawed thumb into his waistline and boxers, pulling it away from his body and dousing the entire area in the masker. He held the can steady and emptied the contents for a good four seconds before he was satisfied. 

He’d still smell like rabbit, of that he had no doubt, but at least mammals would have to stick their snout into his personal space before they caught a whiff. It wasn’t like he had any particular want to wash her scent off, but it was certainly the smart thing to do by a large margin. Even if it was, though, he couldn’t help feeling slightly triumphant being coated in the sweet, earthy smell. He’d never admit to loving the expressions on mammal’s faces when they caught the unmistakable scents on the fox.

Nick dropped the can back onto the sink’s ledge, perking his ears at the sound of the typewriter dinging, and then being slid across its rail with mechanical clunk. His focused remained on the rhythmic typing for a while, though his thoughts were far away. 

Eventually, he went back to his morning routine, and glanced down at a set of toothbrushes sitting in a foggy glass, one green and the other purple. Plucking his purple toothbrush out of the cup, he swung open the mirrored medicine cabinet to retrieve a rolled-up tube, the words Dent-so-Dull written out in a swirling font over the front. Nick knocked the mirror closed with his elbow as he squeezed a dollop of paste over the flattened bristles. 

Brushing was a long and arduous task for the fox, not only because it involved about six dozen different angles to cover every nook and cranny of his sharp maw, but because he felt like he should spend a little extra care than normal since he had been too drunk to brush the night before. That and the frankly overpowering cocktail of strong tastes that lingered in the back of his throat from the booze, cigarettes, and hints of other, more intimate things that had passed his tongue.

Sometime during his laborious task Judy had stopped striking the keys of her typewriter, and the apartment beyond the bathroom was quiet. Nick did not notice, since he had leaned far over the sink with his mouth as wide open as he could get it, scraping the bristles across the farthest reached of his muzzle. 

Suddenly the door swung on it’s hinges, letting more of the orange light of the apartment into the dull space of the bathroom. The fox turned his head with a raised brow, not stopping in his activity until his eyes fell onto the mammal standing in the door. Judy had since put on a pair or dark blue slacks, sure, but what really caught his attention was that she had abandoned his shirt, choosing instead to walk around with nothing over her white chest except a black silk bra.

It took him a second for his eyes to snap up and meet her gaze, only to find out she was giving him a bashful look. She made a sort of attempt to pull into herself slightly, but otherwise she just smiled and walked into the bathroom behind him, brushing past him with a paw on his side.

She moved past him only to stop just short of a large pile of clothes. “Excuse me.” 

Judy bent down and dug her paws into the heap and started pulling piece after piece of clothing out. Every one of Nick’s clothes she retrieved were immediately discarded and so was any of her shirts or underwear, but every one of her pants were thoroughly searched, pockets turned out and all.

Nick was not paying attention to that, though. His focus fell squarely on the shallow dimples in the small of her back. She was leaning over without bending her knees, and it gave him an unimpeded view. Slowly, a crooked, easy smile crept its way up his long muzzle, and with the handle of the toothbrush still sticking out of his mouth, he sauntered over to where the bunny was standing.

She startled when his paws brushed against the fur of her sides, but didn’t pull away. He increased the pressure of his grasp, running his thumbs across her back with claws barely extended, only enough to part her fur and lightly scrape against her skin.

“You ‘ow…” he said, his voice distorted with the brush sticking out of his mouth and the foam filling his cheeks. Despite this, he managed to make his tone both playful and gruff, his smile growing wider. “We coul’ s’and to be a li’le late.”

Judy didn’t immediately respond. Instead, she slowly straightened up, remaining in his grip the entire time. She was holding her wallet in one paw, likely what she was looking for to begin with. When she turned her head to look at him, her neutral expression was betrayed by the amusement in her eyes. Her lips were parted by an uneven smile, and she scoffed at him.

“Charming, really,” she replied, shaking her head, “but no.” She twisted her entire body around in his grasp, and placed a paw on his stomach, gingerly pushing him away. Nick made a rumbling sound with his chest before relenting his hold on her, letting his arms drop to either side. “I might have even said yes if you didn’t have toothpaste running down your chest.”

Nick’s eyebrows rose to their fullest height and he looked down, holding his arms outward as he studied the large globs of foam and dripping toothpaste. He chuckled with the brush still in his mouth, raising his eyes back up to hers and wiggling his brow. The rabbit just shook her head again, placing a paw on his side and pushing him out of the way as she started to leave.

Leaning into her path, Nick plucked the brush out of his mouth and smiled down at her with lidded eyes. “I can clean it off.”

“Please do,” she said, pushing him a little harder so she could pass. Judy stopped once she was on the other side of him, reaching a paw up to his neck and brushing the disheveled fur that she had been scratching minutes before. “Give yourself a quick brush while you're at it.”

Nick hummed. “I might be faster if you gave me some kind of incentive. Like a goal or something to strive for?” Judy turned her attention from his neck to directly into his eyes, giving him an incredulous look. “You could even brush it for me.”

She clicked her tongue at that, twisting around and marching out of the bathroom. “Besides making enough money to keep the lights on?” she called over her shoulder. She paused just before she was out of sight. “How about your incentive is putting that fluffy tail in gear before I break it, Wilde.”

With that, she was gone, leaving Nick standing there gazing out into the apartment with an easy smile. “No need for threats,” he said, mostly to himself, as he made his way back to the sink and spat a large amount of foam into the bowl. “I just enjoy the company.”

It didn’t take him long to finish up brushing. After he had thoroughly rinsed out his mouth by swishing sink water several times, he lapped at the running stream for a long moment, trying to quench the incessant cottony itch in the back of his throat with little success. Nick shut the water off and straightened back up, gazing at his own reflection with a long, drawn out sigh. He supposed he didn’t look that different from normal if he ignored the toothpaste on his chest, dark bags under his eyes and all. 

Nick shook his head and turned on his heels, walking up to a beaten and overloaded towel rack that hung off the wall. He stuck his head and paws into the first one he saw, finding it to be the one Judy had used for her shower, still being damp. As he wiped off the lingering blobs of foam and drips, he left his snout completely buried in the soft material, taking long breath of air through it. Beyond the soap and shampoo, she was on it, which shouldn’t have been that big of a deal considering he was practically saturated in the same smell, but he didn’t care.

The apartment beyond the bathroom was quiet, that Nick could hear before he even left the small space, but it was even more obvious when he walked out into the middle of the room, moving for his clothes sitting on the arm of the couch. The fox turned his head as he went, staring down the long room in search of Judy, finding her to be sitting on a small iron stool in front of her vanity desk, futzing with a white blouse she had put on.

Nick only gave her a passing inspection with lidded eyes before he reached the couch, and when he turned to look down at the pile, he saw two things: one, that his haphazard assortment had been rearranged into a neat, folded pile; and two, she had changed out the pair of slacks he had chosen. The fox couldn’t help but chuckle, though he offered no protest, kicking off the pants he had on as well as his boxers in full view of Judy, and replaced them with the clean ones.

He turned his head to look at her after he pulled a new undershirt over his head, leaving it hanging around his neck before sticking his arms through the sleeves. She was sitting on the stool looking frustrated and leaning towards the mirror, head bowed and arms over her head as she tried to fasten the line of buttons reaching up the back of her blouse. 

Nick didn’t know why she wore those things. Whether they were supposedly the newest fashion or not was irrelevant, as she seemed to hate them more than anything else, especially when she struggled to even put them on. They had apparently become the newest thing for the city’s females, but in all honestly, he didn’t really understand what was so broken about the strings that used to serve the same purpose. As he kneeled over to his discarded pants while buttoning up his own shirt, his tie hanging unknotted on his shoulders, he thought that he probably would never understand.

Reaching down, Nick unfastened the pair of elastic suspenders that hand been hanging loosely off his waist like a set of strange coattails, and stood up. He quickly untangled them in his paws, and began attaching them to his new pair of slacks as he started walking towards the doe staring into the mirror. 

Stepping up to her quietly, his eyes slid over the space in front of her. Except for the various beauty items and sewing material randomly strewn about, the vanity was almost completely covered in the supplies needed to make elaborate disguises: makeup, prosthetics, fur extensions, and more odd assortments of things. It was even stranger to watch the shirt continually irritate her in that context, seeing as how there was far more complicated things that she no doubt was capable of doing.

She made another frustrated huff before she noticed him in the mirror, her lavender eyes locking onto Nick’s lidded gaze. He smiled and brought his paws up to her shoulders, pushing her arms away and brushing flat the white fabric of her blouse.

“Here,” he said, “let me.” Judy stared at him for a second before relenting, offering a soft smile as she tilted her head down and grabbed onto her ears, pulling them to her front. Nick leaned down some ways and started by undoing the several buttons she had already fastened after finding that they were crooked.

They were silent for a time, the fox just casually buttoning up her blouse in the most sluggish pace he could muster. “So,” he finally said, watching her eyes lift up in the mirror, “what’s the long and short of it, Carrots? Are we meeting good ‘ol Mik there?”

She shook her head and looked away. “Nope. He called from a payphone, and he doesn’t want any contact from here on out. I assume he just wants us to treat it like a normal job, and just deal with the owner.”

That wasn’t wholly unusual as far as Mikhail was concerned. Nick had begun believing that it was a lot like playing spy with the amount of hoops he had to jump through just to have a conversation with the guy. He supposed the newly appointed underboss had always been like that, but with the way the Mob was going these days, Mik’s paranoia was getting worse, and with Koslov acting the way he was, Nick wanted to be absolutely nowhere near any of it.

Still, he couldn’t help himself but to retreat back into the recesses of memory when she had mentioned their hopeful client. It was doubtful he had ever met them, but it didn’t hurt to run through the names and faces of everyone he regretted knowing. “Do you have any idea why they want to keep it off the books?” he asked, slowly working his way up her blouse.

She lifted her eyes again in the mirror, watching him work. Her demeanor had changed from her almost mellow softness, and it was replaced by an exterior of cold calculation, something Nick was very familiar with. “Whatever they stole was probably fenced,” she said flatly, “so I doubt it would come up on any insurance papers. We just find out what they were after, who stole it, and where they took it.”

Nick nodded his head slowly, still lost in his thoughts. Something stuck out at him from a distant memory, and it didn’t fill him with confidence for their task. He paused in his activity, furrowing his brow at the line of buttons without really looking at it. “You said it was an antique shop off Drift street?”

Judy cocked a brow. “Does it sound familiar?”

Thinking for another moment, he chewed on the inside of his cheek. When he finally glanced up to meet her gaze in the mirror, he offered a weak shrug. “Maybe,” he said, returning to his task. “If he’s one of Koslov’s fences, then the less we know, the better.” Judy seemed like she wanted to press the issue, but as soon as she had opened her mouth to speak, she clamped her buck teeth down onto her bottom lip. After that, she lowered her head back down to give him more access to her neck.

Silently working button after button, the dull throb of his headache returned the more irritated he got himself at the circumstances. Nick fumbled one of the tiny buttons in his grasp and let out a frustrated breath. “I hate working for these pricks,” he mumbled. “It’s too damn dangerous.”

“We’re lucky they call us, Nick,” Judy replied, keeping her head down. “We’d be out on the street by now if they didn’t.”

Nick hummed once he had finished the last button, and ran his large paws across her shoulders to flatten out the blouse. He smiled warmly at her reflection, and was about to pull back until he saw her hold a small silver locket over her shoulder. The fox accepted the thin chain and took either end into both paws, holding it out and lowering it over her head and around her neck, which Judy extended to give him more room.

He fiddled with his grasp on the tiny latch for a second before speaking up in a light, sing-song tone. “We’d still have each other.”

“Ha!” Judy turned her head to meet his green eyes, no longer settling for just the reflection. “I’d leave you in a minute if you couldn’t keep a roof over my head.” 

Nick just smiled wider. He would have been hurt if it wasn’t for the smarmy grin she was wearing. “Admit it,” he replied in a low voice, leaning forward. “You’d miss me.”

She harrumphed at that, turning her nose up at him. “I’d get over it,” she replied, still smiling.

Fastening the latch of the chain, Nick fixed the necklace so that it would lay comfortably on her neck and lifted his lidded eyes, giving her an amused expression. “Oh, so you do care?”

Judy only snorted at that, already moving on her stool. Nick was taking a step back when she struggled to climb onto the stool, standing up so that she was almost at his full height, and turned to look at him expectantly. The fox raised a brow, but found himself drifting back towards her when she held out her paws.

He didn’t know what he had expected, even if he did know what he was hoping for, but ultimately it turned out that she had just traded places with him, and had started futzing with his crooked collar. He studied her closely now that the distance between them was so small, keeping his arms limp at his sides as he watched her adjust his shirt.

Grabbing his collar roughly, she dragged him even closer. “Stand up straight,” Judy snapped.

Nick allowed himself to be pulled around and straightened his back to perfection when he was ordered to, beaming a lidded smile the entire time. “Yes, ma’am.”

She quickly palmed down the fur around the base of his neck, and when that didn’t work, she licked her paw and tried again, all so she could pull his collar closed without it looking like his fur was bursting at the seams of his clothing. Once it was securely buttoned, she spent no time at all flipping the collar upwards and taking his tie into her paws. “One of these days you’re gonna have to learn how to knot your own tie,” she said without looking at him, dexterously weaving the long stretch of fabric in on itself.

“That’s one of the reasons I’d never recover, darling,” he replied, receiving an amused scoff even though it was only barely a joke. “The day I learn how to do it myself is the day I accept the possibility that you’re not going to do it for me, and I’m far too charming for that to happen.”

“I’m going to stuff this thing down your throat if you keep talking.” Judy tried to wear an expression of neutrality, or even irritation, but the soft crinkles in her eyes betrayed her. It made Nick want to lean in and make her look at him, but he held himself back, just parting his lips to flash the tips of his sharp teeth. When she was done expertly tying his tie, she flipped his collar back down and smoothed it all out to perfection, but her paws lingered on his shoulders as she stared at his neck. “I thought I told you to brush,” she said, uselessly combing through his fur.

“I wanted you to do it.”

Judy’s gaze snapped up to meet his lidded emerald eyes incredulously, and he just stared back, raising his eyebrows. Scoffing at him, she turned around and leaning over the vanity to pluck a sleek black comb out of the mess. “You’re incorrigible.”

Nick just straightened out his neck, providing her with greater access. He had really expected her to shove the comb into his chest and walk off, having lifted his chin as a joke more than anything else, but he found himself pleasantly surprised when she actually started running the teeth through his fur. The fox gazed down the length of his long muzzle and watched her carefully, allowing himself to wallow in the feeling of her alternating straightening out his coat between her short, dull claws and the comb.

He let out a low rumble from his chest. “I’m just needy the morning after,” he said, pulling his lips up just enough so that the tips of his canines poked out. “I like a little emotional reassurance that you’re not just going to up and leave me after you’ve got what you wanted.”

She stopped brushing his fur for a moment and glanced up to meet his gaze, brow creasing on her forehead. “My name’s on the lease.”

Nick couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Her expression shifted the slightest amount when she recognized the new edge to his eyes, but before she could pull away from him, his paws were already on hers, keeping them in place. The fox leaned, slowly at first, towards the rabbit in front of him, chasing after her when she rocked back onto her heels in vein. He kept advancing even after her arms were stretched out as far as they could go, and with his long neck and muzzle, he could still go further.

Her nose twitched a single time before their lips met. She was warm and soft, if a little stiff. Judy hesitated for only a moment after that, and quickly her eyelids became heavy over her lavender eyes, gently drifting closed as she melted into the kiss. The last thing he saw before he closed his own eyes was how her brow tented up on her forehead, and how she began to push back against him.

The kiss wasn’t all that passionate, but it did demand the fox’s full attention, monopolizing every sense that he possessed. He didn’t even realize that he had released her paws so he could wrap his arms around the small of her back, pulling her in closer, only to have a pair of small paws exploring the fur at the base of his ears.

Finally, they pulled apart, just far enough from each other to catch their breaths. Judy was looking straight down at the ground, her ears hanging limp behind her while her face and nose burned. “Nick,” she whispered, “we’re going to be l—”

Nick cut her off by pressing his limps to hers once again. This time, the kiss lasted longer, and his paws quickly started to slide in opposite directions on her back. “I know,” he said between quick pecks, “They’re not going anywhere.” After he was done talking he bored down on her, taking a single step forwards and pressing their bodies together.

Judy had to lean back on her heels because of Nick’s long muzzle, but she made no protest to his advances. She even pushed back just as hard as he was, and gripped the fur on the back of his neck tightly. It went on like that for several moments, with the kissing growing increasingly passionate, but eventually Judy started pushing him away. Nick relented, though she ended up following him despite the fact that she was the one pushing.

Finally she pulled their lips apart and stood up straight. “Alright,” she said, though she was caught off guard when Nick went in again. She only let their lips brush against each other for a second before she shoved him back, more forcefully this time. “Alright!” The fox smiled at her with lidded eyes, waiting patiently for her to regain her composure. “I’m sorry, okay? We’ve just not had a case in almost a month now, and nothing like a robbery. I’m excited.”

Nick calmly nodded. “I know you are.” With a slight bow of his head to quickly bump their noses together, the fox watched as it twitched while he took a step backwards. Satisfied by her reaction, he nodded towards the front door. “That’s why we can’t keep our antiques dealer waiting, now can we?”

She was still rubbing her nose when an enormous, toothy smile captured her features, her long ears perking up to their full height. Judy practically giggled with excitement as she hopped down off the chair. “Grab the camera bag,” she said, trotting past him into the other room. “I need to get my stuff.”

Watching her go for a moment, Nick just smiled and shook his head. If it wasn’t for extenuating circumstances, he would seriously believe he was the luckiest guy in the whole city. Maybe she had her quirks and hangups, but nobody was perfect, especially in this town. He had to admit to himself that he had already accepted, and more the the point, gotten used to, all of it by now. If he wasn’t constantly reminded about how bizarre other mammals saw their relationship, even when they only saw it in the professional light, he’d go so far as to call it ordinary, routine, domestic.

That last word stuck in his head when he turned and started marching over to a discordant heap of junk, reaching for a rounded metal case with flaking beige paint. In the back of his mind, he wondered how domestic their thing could really be called. They were a long way away from the picket fences and large family that seemed to be the staple of success. Ultimately, it didn’t matter to him, he decided. Sleeping in the gutter would be fine by him if he was sharing it with his bunny.

The metal clamps on the front of the case clacked open when Nick coaxed them, making the hinges spring upwards. He deftly flipped the lid open and inspected the contents of the case. It was an incredibly used Speed Graphic, though despite its obvious age, the fact that it was well maintained and cared for was clear as day. Nick ran his thumb over a tarnished strip of metal, studying the camera for another long moment before he was satisfied, pressing the lid down and refastening the clamps. 

Nick straightened out and slung the case over his shoulder. In the other room, he could see Judy darting this way and that, shoving small trinkets or tools into her pockets as she whirled around the room collecting her strewn out effects. Casually strolling into the room, he paused to watch her clip a small, thickly woven holster onto the back of her pants. After that, she picked up a revolver that had been laying on the desk and flicked open the cylinder. 

Brushing past her on his way to the coat rack that flanked the front door, Nick unhooked his own holster, his being a shoulder sling that came together behind his back clandestinely. He deposited the metal camera case next to the door before shouldering the heavy straps, his gun already securely fastened inside. When he turned to look at Judy, he saw she had already put on a jacket and slung on a shoulder bag that was more his size than hers.

“Okay,” she said, patting her paws over her coat and pants pockets while she scrutinized the apartment, “Are we forgetting anything? Do we need any other gear?”

Nick hummed as he hooked his clawed thumbs under the suspenders that still hung limply off of him, and pulled them up with a practiced ease over the straps of his holster, keeping them in place. “Calm down, Fluff. We’ve got everything we need.”

The fox turned to a small side table that sat against the wall next to the coat rack, alternating with his paws as he grabbed things off the table and stuck them in his pockets. After he stuffed his keys into his pants, Nick turned back to the rack and hooked a claw under the collar of a well worn suit jacket.

“Good,” Judy replied beside him. She looked at the door with furrowed brows for a moment in deliberation before glancing up at him. “We should bring some extra coats. We might be in Tundratown for awhile.”

Nodding his head in agreement as he pulled the sleeves of the jacket over his arms, Nick started walking off into the other room again. He stopped short of the cluttered coffee table and reached down to collect his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. “I’m going to be glad when we save up enough money to take that vacation,” he said absentmindedly, drifting back towards her while he stuffed the pack into his shirt pocket. “Warm beaches and a cool, ocean breeze. No more Tundratown. The best part would be there not being a climate wall in sight. Just an island paradise.”

Judy flashed him an amused smirk, softly shaking her head. “Keep dreaming, Slick.”

Nick replied only by partying his lips slightly, showing off his rows of sharp teeth. When he stepped up beside her, she had already pulled a long winter coat off the rack and had folded it over her shoulder bag. He followed suit, retrieving his own long coat and slinging it over his arm. After he was done, Nick turned slightly to look off into the apartment, letting his eyes drift around aimlessly like he was looking for something he had missed. 

“Don’t forget your collar.”

The easy smile that had been sitting comfortably on the fox’s muzzle twitch an almost unnoticeable amount, and it lost its genuine shine, replaced by a dull, routine smugness. His head swiveled slowly around, allowing his eyes to fall on a black strap of thick cotton tape hanging off a nail by the front door. In the center of the strap, a small metal box painted an even richer shade of black sat ominously, staring back at him with a single unlit circular light made out of red glass.

There was a cord hanging out of the side of the collar, plugged into the nearest wall socket. Nick hesitated for a moment, like he always did, but he found his hind paws moving without him telling them to, and soon he stood before the hung up collar. The fox forced a toothy smile. “How could I forget this little guy?”

He reached out to pull the collar off its perch, but before he was even halfway there, a small grey paw came out of his peripheral vision and was placed softly down onto his wrist, stopping him. Nick glanced to his side, taking in the pained expression that doe wore. She pushed his arm back down and tried to smile softly at him. “Here,” she said, reaching over to the collar herself. “Let me.” 

Nick watched her closely as she pulled the collar off of its spot on the wall, unplugging the cord that was sticking out of it. She turned to look at him, each end of the black strip in either paw, searching his eyes. However, Judy didn’t coax him or demand that he bend down. She just waited.

After a long moment of keeping his gaze focused deep in her lavender eyes, Nick let out a slow, deflating exhale from his nose. He leaned over, sticking his neck out. Judy kept her eyes on his and nodded, lifting up the collar in her paws. The last thing Nick saw of the ominous black box was a pair of reflective metal prongs that stuck out towards him she she reached out. A jolt of nervous tension ran down the fox’s spike and to the tip of his tail, and when he felt those metal prongs dig into the fur of his neck, he twitched.

Judy had leaned in very close to his neck, trying to almost hug him as she tried to work the latch on the ends of the cotton tape together. “We might even finish this case in one day, huh?” she asked, obviously trying to take his mind off what she was doing. “We could blow all the cash we don’t set aside for rent on more junk food and booze.”

Nick couldn’t help himself but to laugh at that. He should be used to this by now, but every time he had to leave the apartment it felt like the noose was growing tighter and tighter. Maybe he was just being dramatic, or more actually, spoiled, and was just not taking it as well as he used to. He didn’t know why. 

What he did know, though, was even if the collar felt like a noose around his neck, he’d be taking it off again tonight. More than that, Judy would be with him, and she’d probably be the one to do it. It made him feel so much better about the whole thing when she trusted him like that. A prey animal, a tiny little cute bunny, trusting a pred like him enough to spend every single day with him uncollared. Every night. It was just another thing he had to worry about when he was outside the apartment, and when they were home, it didn’t matter what mammals thought of him, their relationship, or anything else. It was just them.

The fox’s lips parted into a toothy smile as he pulled back once she had clicked the collar into place and adjusted it on his neck. “You know the way right to my heart, Carrots,” he said smoothly. “That’s why I love you.” 

Judy’s expression twisted the slightest amount, but she kept the sad smile she had on her face. Nick knew that was the kind of reaction he should have expected at this point, but it didn’t stop the twinge of disappointment. Still, he took it in stride, and didn’t let even the slightest hints of the letdown show on his easy smile. Instead, he just followed her for every inch she tried to pull away. “Still not going to answer me?” he asked.

The rabbits eyes fluttered down and back up again, but she held her ground. It almost looked like she was going to give his a serious response before a crooked smile started curling her lips upward. “Nick,” she said softly. “We’re not young anymore. One of these days you’re going to have to grow up. I’m a rabbit and you’re a fox.” She rolled her head with every exaggerated statement, and just before she had dropped that final piece, she had gotten this dignified, condescending air about her, one that Nick knew to be a complete fabrication.

The fox’s own lips curled up into a dangerous grin, and he leaned closed with lidded eyes zeroed in on hers. “So you keep saying,” he replied in a low, gravelly tone. “I still don’t see you running away. I’m not gonna quit until you give me an answer.”

Judy turned her nose up at him and feigned offense. Her mask of condensation grew cracks, though, and before Nick knew it, her paws were in the fur of his neck, dipping between him and the collar, and she was pulling him further downward.

Their lips locked again, this time Judy taking the lead, and Nick was more than happy to relent to her control. What the kiss lacked in physical passion, though it had no shortage of that either, with how her fingers ran through his fur, it more than made up for it in depth of feeling. The word was still an issue, one that the fox didn’t mind giving her space with, but there was no doubt that she didn’t have a problem with showing him her affection. It was suffocating in all the right ways, quite literally to the point that they were both out of breath when they parted.

She smiled up at him, humour having left her. “How’s that?”

Nick hummed and went in for another peck. “It’s a good first step, but I’m gonna keep hounding you until I hear you say it.”

Before she had a chance to reply, Nick seized the opportunity to go in for another. When their lips locked this time, she had to force quick, snorting giggles out against his muzzle. “That’s—” She was cut off by another kiss every time she trying to finish her thought. “not— going— to— happen.”

At the final word, she pushed roughly on his chest, forcing them apart, but Nick only kept on his smug expression and then some. “I don’t know,” he said in a sing-song voice, softly wagging his snout in front of her face in mock disagreement. “I’ve been getting you pretty close. You looked ready to say it last night.”

She gave him an incredulous, almost pleading look, snorting as she turned on her heels and stepped up to the front door. “First of all,” she said, throwing her voice over her shoulder. “We were both drunk, and second of all, you’re confusing sex with love again.”

Nick stepped up beside her, gazing at her through the corner of his eye. “They’re the same to me,” he said, flicking the back of her knees with her tail. 

Judy was in the middle of straightening out her clothes when she rolled her eyes. The rabbit turned her attention up to him with the ghost of a smirk, her buck teeth barely visible behind her lips. “You’re insatiable,” she cooed smoothly, to which the fox only flashed his own teeth back. 

The doe stopped what she was doing to stare at him, making Nick cock a brow. Slowly, she rose up her paw and took a firm hold of his tie, and then lightly started tugging ito towards her. He needed no more encouragement than that, and soon enough she closed the distance between them and their lips were locked once again. It was short and sweet, amplified by how she flicking out her tongue just as the kiss was ending. When they far enough apart, she stared into his eyes with hooded exhilaration. “Hopefully that’ll tide you over until the case is done.”

Nick laughed. “I’ll work extra hard, then.”

They parted promptly and both went to work smoothing down their fur and fixing their closes, not wanting to be caught like a pair of teenagers walking out of a utility closet. Nick’s effort was a lot less meticulous than the doe’s and he couldn’t help but glance on in amusement at how she fussed over the tiniest thing. From his shirt pocket, he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and bit into a filter to pull one out. He was halfway into flicking his lighter to life when he noticed she had taken to glaring at him as she pressed flat her collar.

“You’re going to give me cancer if you smoke any more of those,” she said, sticking an accusatory finger at him. When she narrowed her eyes, he half expected to get another one of her rants about why he should quit. Thankfully, he just got a tacit threat. “You only get two more cigarettes today. Use them wisely.”

Nick had to suppress a chuckle since he was in the middle of pulling a drag off the burning embers. He turned his muzzle up and away from her to blow out an impressive cloud towards the ceiling, only to look back at her with an enormous, toothy smile, holding the paw that had the cigarette up into the air in a scout’s salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Judy narrowed her eyes even more in an attempt to make him understand she was serious, and was only sated when he held up both paws in surrender. With that, Nick slung the camera bag back over his shoulder and Judy opened the front door. They both stepped out into the dingy hallway and quickly shut the door behind them, the aging lock grinding until a heavy clack signified it was properly locked. 

The apartment now sat in a hazy silence, with wisps of smoke and the proof of their intimacy swirling up in the heavy air. The ceiling fan above the couch continued to uselessly chop at the saturated atmosphere, serving as the only sound besides the incessant buzz of the city beyond the glass and walls. The stagnant feeling continued to permeate through the small, cluttered space, waiting for its fox and bunny to return.


End file.
